o  o         -;v        o 

" 


o        °  o  o 


CAPE  COD   FOLKS. 


Making  him  look  like  a  man  of  thirty. — Vide  p.  92. 


CAPE   COD    FOLKS 


B5f 


SALLY     PRATT    McLEAN 

A* 


BOSTON 

A    WILLIAMS    &    COMPANY 
OLD   CORNER  BOOKSTORE 

iSSi 


Copyright,  1881, 
BY  A.  WILLIAMS  £  Co. 


EIGHTH     EDITION. 


TO 

I        <fi 


36764 


CONTENTS. 


CMArTKR 

I.  ON  A  MISSION,        .... 

II.  I  BLOW  THE  HORN, 

III.  THE   BEAUS  OF  WALLENCAMP  PERFORM 

A  GRAVE  DUTY, 

IV.  THE  TURKEY  MOGUL  ARRIVES, 

V.  GRANDMA  SPICER  GETS  GRANDPA  READY 

FOR  SUNDAY  SCHOOL, 

VI.  ETHEL  AND  CRADLEBOW, 

VII.  BENNEY  KISSES  THE  TEACHER, 

VIII.  FESTIVITIES  AT  THE  ARK, 

IX.  NOEL  "  POPS  THE  QUESTION,"  . 

X.  A  LETTER  FROM  THE  FISHERMAN,    . 

XI.  A  WALLENCAMP  FUNERAL, 

XII.  ETHEL'S  CONFESSION, 

XIII.  A  MILD  WINTER  ON  THE  CAPE, 

XIV.  RESCUED  BY  THE  CRADLEROW, 

XV.  ELIOT  TURNER  IN  THE  SCHOOL-ROOM 

XVI.  GEORGE  OLVER'S  LOVE  FOR  ETHEL, 

XVII.  TEACHER  HAS  THE  FEVER. — DEATH  OF 

LITTLE  BESSIE, 

XVIII.  BENNEY   GIVES  THE   TEACHER   A    NEW 

CHAIR, 

XIX. .  DEATH  OF  THE  CRADLEBOW,    . 

XX.  GEORGE  OLVER'S  ORATION, 

XXI.  FAREWELL  TO  WALLENCAMP,     . 


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3*4 


Frontispiece : 
GRANDMA  GETS  GRANDPA  READY  FOR  SUNDAY  SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER   I. 


ON  A  MISSION. 

"  Lo,  on  a  narrer  neck  o'  land, 
'Twixt  two  unbounded  seas.  I  stand  1  " 

[UNT  Susan,  was  not  sporting,  now,  in  the  airy 
realms  of  metaphor.  Aunt  Susan  stood  upon 
Cape  Cod,  and  her  voice  rang  out  with  that 
peculiar  sweep  and  power  which  the  presence  of  a  dread 
reality  alone  can  give.  Something  of  the  precariousness 
of  her  situation,  too,  was  expressed  in  the  wild,  alarming, 
though  graceful,  gesture  of  her  arms. 

It  was  before  the  long  projected  canal  separating  Cape 
Cod  from  the  main  land  had  been  put  under  active  pro 
cess  of  preparation. 

It  was  at  an  evening  meeting  in  the  Wallencamp 
schoolhouse.  A  row  of  dingy,  smoking  lanterns  had  been 
•et  against  the  wall  and  afforded  the  only  light  cast  upon 
the  scene.  Aunt  Susannah  Cradlebow  the  speaker, 
was  tall  and  dark-eyed,  with  an  almost  super-human 
litheness  of  body,  and  a  weird,  beautiful  face. 

"  And,  oh,  my  dear  brothers  and  sisters  and  oncon- 
varted  friends  !"  she  continued,  "how  little  do  we  realize 


2  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

the  reskiness  of  our  situwation  here  on  the  Cape  !  Here 
we  stand  with  them  ar  identical  unbounded  seas  a  rollin' 
up  on  ary  s,'de  of  us  I  the  world  a  pintin'  at  us  as  them 
that  should  be  always  ready,  with  our  lamps  trimmed  and 
burnin'  \.  ;an$,  yit,  oh  my  dear  brothers  and  sisters  and 
onconvarted  friends  ! — as  fur  as  I  have  been  inland,  and  I 
have  been  a  consid'able  ways  inland,  as  you  all  know, 
whar  it  would  seem  no  more  than  nateral  that  folks  should 
settle  down  kind  o*  safe  and  easy  on  a  dry  land  univarse  — 
I  say  as  fur  as  I  have  been  inland,  I  never  see  sech 
keeryins  on  and  carnal  works,  sech  keerlessness  for  the 
present  and  onconsarn  for  the  futur'  as  I  have  amongst 
the  benighted  critturs  who  stand  before  me  this  evenin',  a 
straddlin'  this  poor,  old,  Hopeforsaken  Pot  Hook  !" 

Clearer  and  louder  grew  Aunt  Susan's  tones ;  her  eyes 
lightened  with  terrible  meaning ;  her  words  flowed  with 
an  unction  that  was  unmistakable,  and,  at  length,  "  Oh, 
run  for  the  Ark,  ye  poor,  lost  sinners,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  Oh,  run  for  the  Ark,  my  onconvarted  friends  !  Don't 
ye  hear  the  waves  a  com  in'  in?  They  're  a  rollin'  swift 
and  sure  !  They  're  a  roll  in'  in  sure  as  death  !  Run  for 
the  Ark  !  Run  for  the  Ark  !" 

Now,  there  was  in  Wallcncamp  a  literal  Ark,  otherwise 
this  exhortation  would  have  lacked  its  most  convincing 
force  and  significance.  But  Aunt  Susan  paused. 
Among  the  usually  restless  audience,  there  was  a  moment 
of  almost  breathless  suspense.  Not  half  a  mile  away, 
behind  a  strip  of  Cedar  woods,  we  could  plainly 
hear  the  surf  rolling  in  from  the  bay,  breaking  hard 
against  the  shore  with  its  awful  monotonous  moan,  moan, 
moan. 
My  heart  was  already  faint  with  homesickness.  The 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  8 

effect  of  that  waiting  moment  was  as  sombre  as  anything 
I  had  ever  experienced.  Much  to  my  distaste,  I  found 
myself  sympathizing  with  the  vague  terror  and  unrest  around 
me.  I  can  hear  it  still,  the  voice  that  then  rose,  singing, 
through  the  sullen  gloom  of  the  school  room,  a  strangely 
sweet  and  rapturous  voice  —  Abagail's.  I  learned  to 
know  it  well  afterwards.  I  listened  with  rapt  surprise  to 
the  pathos  with  which  it  thrilled  the  simple  words  of  the 
song. 

u  Shall  we  meet  beyond  the  River 
When  the  surges  cease  to  roll, 
AVhere,  in  nil  the  bright  forever, 
Sorrow  ne'er  shall  press  the  soul?" 

A  keenly  responsive  chord  had  been  touched  in  the 
simple,  agitated  breasts  of  the  Wallencampers  and  they 
joined  in  the  chorus — these  rough  people — not  with  their 
usual  reckless  exuberance  of  tone,  but  plaintively,  trem 
blingly  even,  as  though  whatever  the  words,  they  would 
make  of  them  a  prayer  in  which  to  hide  some  secret  doubt 
or  longing  of  their  souls. 

44  Shall  we  moot,  shall  we  meet, 
Shall  we  meet  beyond  the  Itivcr?" 

The  strain  was  repeated  with  a  most  pathetic  quaver  in 
the  rendering,  and  then  big  Captain  Sartcll  broke 
down,  with  a  helpless  gulp  in  his  voice,  and  I,  who 
believed  myself  of  too  superior  and  refined  a  nature 
to  be  moved  by  sucli  tawdry  sentiment,  was  further 
dismayed  to  feel  the  tears  gathering  fast  in  my  own  "eyes. 

After  the  meeting,  on  the  schoolhouse  steps,  the  big 
Captain,  as  if  to  atone  for  any  unmanly  exhibition  of 
feeling  into  which  he  might  have  been  betrayed  inside, 
took  little  Bachelor  Rae  up  by  the  shoulders,  and  gently 


A  CAPE     COD    FOLKS. 

and  playfully  held  him  suspended  in  mid  air,  while  he  put 
to  him  the  following  riddle  : 

"  I'll  wager  a  quarter,in  a  good,  squar'  guess,  Bacheldor. 
Why  is  —  why  air'  Aunt  Susan's  remarks  like  this  'ere 
peninshaler,  eh,  Bacheldor?" 

"  Because  —  ahem  !  —  because  they  're  always  a  run- 
nin'  to  a  p'int,  eh  ?  "  inquired  the  keen  little  bachelor. 

"  No,  by  thunder  !  "  exclaimed  the  discomfited  Captain, 
setting  the  magician  down  promptly.  "  As  near  as  I 
calk'late,"  he  continued,  endeavoring  to  resume  his  former 
air  of  cool  and  reckless  raillery ;  "  as  near  as  I  calk'late, 
Bacheldor,  —  yes,  sir,  as  near  as  I  calk'late,  —  it  's  —  it  's 
—  by  thunder  !  it 's  because  they  're  both  liable  to  squalls 
in  fu'r  weather  !  " 

Amazed,  and  almost  frightened  at  the  unexpected 
brilliancy  of  his  evil  success,  the  Captain  yet  kept  a  rueful 
and  furtive  eye  on  the  little  bachelor. 

Bachelor  Rae  coughed  slightly  and  smiled.  "Very 
true,"  he  drawled,  cheerfully,  in  his  small,  thin  voice, 
"  I  'm  —  ahem  !  —  I  'm  not  a  married  man  myself,  you 
know,  Captain.  However,"  he  added,  "you  should  have 
given  me  another  try.  I  had  the  correct  answer  on  my 
tongue's  end." 

During  this  brief  exchange  between  the  stars  of  the 
Wallencamp  debate  ground,  murmurs  of  appreciative 
applause  arose  from  the  group  of  bystanders,  and  "  Pretty 
tight  pinch  for  you,  Captain  ! "  and  "  Three  cheers  for 
Bacheldor  !  ye  can't  git  ahead  of  Bacheldor  ! "  sprang 
delightedly  from  lip  to  lip. 

Aunt  Susan  had  scented  from  within  this  buoyant 
resumption  of  the  Wallencamp  mirth,  and  now  appeared 
on  the  scene,  bearing  a  burning  lantern  in  her  hand. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  5 

She  first  turned  the  glare  of  its  full  orb  on  the  late  sin- 
convicted  Captain,  who  stood  revealed  with  a  guilty  grin 
frozen  helplessly  on  his  alarmed  features,  and  next 
directed  the  beams  of  disclosing  justice  towards  the  form 
of  the  little  bachelor,  who,  in  pronounced  meekness,  was 
engaged  in  re-adjusting  the  collar  of  his  coat. 

"At  it  ag'in  !  "  Aunt  Susan  exclaimed,  with  slow  and 
cutting  emphasis.  "  At  it  ag'in  !  I  do  believe  you  're  all 
possessed  of  the  devil !  " 

Then,  with  one  sweep  of  the  lantern,  she  took  a  com 
prehensive  survey  of  the  shivering  group,  and  passed  on 
without  another  word,  while  in  the  breast  of  every  guilty 
Wallencamper  then  present,  there  rested  a  deep  sense  of 
merited  condemnation. 

Aunt  Susan  was  soon  followed  by  the  other  lantern 
bearers,  who  dispersed  homeward,  along  the  four  roads 
diverging  from  the  schoolhouse,  and,  the  night  being 
starless,  the  children  of  the  darkness  followed  meekly  in 
their  wake. 

The  longest  coute  lay  before  those  who  took  the  River 
Road  leading  to  the  Indian  Encampment.  Bachelor  Rae 
was  the  hindmost  in  this  receding  column.  Bachelor 
Rae,  though  too  withered  and  brown  of  visage  to  afford 
enlightenment  as  to  his  species,  was  held  to  be  of  un 
questionable  white  descent.  Vet  he  kept  house,  alone,  at 
the  Indian  Encampment. 

Then  there  was  the  Stony  Hill  Road,  up  which  a  few 
pilgrims  toiled ;  and  the  Cross  Lot  Road  to  the  beach  — 
thiilvr  went  the  Morrises.  Last  of  all,  there  was  the 
Lane,  and  it  was  somewhat  in  the  rear  of  the  lane  proces 
sion  that  I  musingly  wended  my  way,  led  by  the  beams 
of  Grandma  Spicer's  slowly  swaying  lantern. 


6  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

I  was  the  Wallencamp  school  teacher.  I  had  come  to 
this  "  rock-bourn!  coast "  imagining  myself  impelled  by 
much  the  same  necessity  as  that  which  fired  the  bosoms  of 
the  earlier  pilgrims.  Not  that  I  hail  been  restricted  in 
respect  to  religious  privileges,  but  I  sought  for  a  true 
independence  of  life  and  aim  ;  and,  furthermore,  it 
should  be  said.  I  had  come  to  Wallencamp  on  a  mission. 
"  On  a  mission  ! "  how  the  thought  had  tickled  my  fancy 
and  roused  my  warmest  enthusiasm  but  a  few  short  days 
before  !  Indeed,  I  hail  not  been  yet  a  week  in  Walleiv 
cnmp  ,and  now,  as  I  walked  up  the  lane  in  a  mood  quite 
the  reverse  of  enthusiastic,  I  was  painfully  trying  to  gather 
from  my  small  and  scattered  sources  of  information  what 
the  exact  meaning  of  the  phrase  might  be. 

1  had  entered  on  the  performance  of  my  errand  to 
Wallencamp  under  circumstances  not  usual,  perhaps, 
among  propagandists ;  nevertheless,  I  had  been  singularly 
free  from  misgivings. 

A  girl  of  nineteen  years,  I  had  a  home  endowed  with 
every  luxury ;  a  circle  of  family  acquaintance,  which,  I 
admitted,  did  me  great  credit ;  congenial  companions ; 
besides,  I  was  particularly  well  pleased  with  Nature  for 
the  uncommon  beauty  which  she  seemed  to  me  to  have 
poured  out  in  my  behalf.  As  for  my  education,  I  was 
pleased  to  call  it  completed.  My  career  at  boarding 
schools  had  been  of  a  delightfully  varied  and  elective 
nature,  for  I  would  never  have  deigned  to  peg  along 
with  squalid  studiousness,  or  even  to  sail  with  politic 
and  inglorious  ease  through  the  prescribed  course  of 
study  at  any  institution.  Any  misadventures  necessarily 
following  from  this  course,  my  friends  had  gilded  over 
tvith  the  flattering  insinuation  that  1  was  "  too  vivacious  " 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  7 

for  this  sort  of  discipline,  or  "too  fragile"  for  that, 
though  I  am  bound  to  say  that,  in  such  cases,  my 
"vivacity"  had  generally  sealed  my  fate  before  the 
delicacy  of  my  constitution  became  too  alarmingly 
apparent. 

1  had,  to  be  sure,  a  few  commendable  aspirations,  but 
I  had  started  out  fresh  so  many  times  with  them,  only  to 
see  them  meet  the  same  end  ! 

Though  not  by  nature  of  a  self- depreciatory  turn  of 
mind,  I  had  occasional  flashes  of  inspiration,  to  the  effect 
that,  in  spite  of  the  soft  flattery  of  friends,  I  really  was 
amounting  to  very  little  after  all.  It  was  in  a  mood 
induced  by  one  of  these  supernatural  gleams  that  I  stood 
on  one  occasion,  leaning  a  pair  of  very  plump  arms 
on  the  graveyard  wall,  looking  wistfully  over  into  the 
place  of  tombs,  and  thinking  how  nice  it  would  be  to 
have  done  forever  with  the  fret  and  turmoil  of  a  life  ! 
And  it  was  at  such  a  time,  too,  that  I  received  from  a 
school  friend,  Mary  Taite,  the  letter  which  was  the  moving 
cause  of  my  mission  to  Wallencamp. 

Mary  Taite,  by  the  way,  was  one  of  those  "prosy, 
ridiculous  girls  " —  so  I  had  been  compelled  to  classify 
her,  although  I  was  secretly  troubled  by  a  sincere  admira 
tion  of  her  virtues,  —  who  had  made  it  an  absorbing 
pursuit  of  her  school  days  to  probe  her  text  books  for 
useful  information,  and  was  also  accustomed  to  defer  to 
her  teachers  as  high  authority  on  matters  of  daily  dis 
cipline.  She  was  not  in  "our  set."  She  was  poor,  and 
studious,  and  obedient,  yet  a  friendship  had  sprung  up 
between  her  and  me,  and  I  was  moved  to  forgive  her,  in 
many  respects,  the  grovelling  tendencies  of  her  nature. 
t  even  ascended  occasionally  to  her  room  on  the  fourth 


8  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

floor  to  shock  her  with  my  sentiments,  when  there  was 
nothing  livelier  going  on. 
She  wrote : 

"  MY  DEAR  S :  Are  you  still  perfectly  happy,  as  you 

used  to  try  to  have  me  think  you  were  always  —  the  old 
restlessness,  the  better  longings  unsatisfied,  do  they  never 
come  up  again  ?  [That  was  Mary's  insidious  way  of  stating 
a  difficulty.]  '  Do  n't  you  believe  you  would  be  happier 
to  do  something  in  real  earnest?  Something  for  people 
outside,  I  mean.  [I  flushed  a  little  at  that.  An  insinu 
ation  of  that  sort  can  't  be  put  too  delicately.]  I  have 
tried  to  imagine  how  the  proposal  I  am  going  to  make 
will  strike  you  —  but  never  mind.  I  am  teaching, 
you  know,  in  Kedarville.  I  leave  here,  at  the  close 
of  the  term,  for  another  field  of  labor,  and  now  I  want 
you  to  apply  for  the  Kedarville  school.  Yes,  it  is  a 
remote,  poverty-stricken  place.  It  contains  no  society, 
no  church,  no  library,  not  even  a  little  country  store  !  It 
would  seem  to  you,  I  dare  say,  like  going  back  to  the 
half  barbarous  conditions  of  life.  The  people  are  simple 
and  kind-hearted ;  but  they  need  training  —  oh,  how 
much  !  —  physically,  mentally  and  morally.  I  can  assure 
you,  here  is  scope  for  the  most  daring  missionary  enter 
prise,  and  you, —  I  believe  that  you  could  do  it  if  you 
would.  *  *  *  *  *  Consider  the  matter  seriously ; 
consult  with  your  friends  about  it,  and  if  you  do  decide 
to  try  the  experiment,  write  as  legibly  as  you  possibly  can 
to  the  Superintendent  of  Schools,  Farmouth,  Mass.,  stating 
your  qualifications,  etc.,  etc." 

The  idea  struck  me  with  such  strange  and  immediate 
favor,  that  I  quite  forbore  to  consult  with  my  friends 
in  regard  to  it.  I  resolved  to  go  on  the  instant,  and 
wrote  my  friend  Mary  to  that  effect,  congratulating  her, 
with  an  undercurrent  of  mischievous  intention,  on  having 
been  the  happy  means  of  setting  my  powers  drifting  in 
the  right  direction  at  last ;  and  reproached  her  gently  with 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  9 

having  seemed  to  imply,  once,  in  her  letter,  some  occult 
reason  why  I  had  not  been  regarded,  heretofore,  as 
specially  designed  to  work  in  the  cause  of  missions, 
whereas  I  had  always  felt  myself  drifting  inevitably 
towards  that  end. 

I  wrote  to  the  Superintendent  of  the  Farmouth  schools. 
But  here  I  had  an  earnest  purpose  to  serve,  and  a  real 
desire  to  succeed,  and  here  met  with  a  difficulty. 

I  had  not  the  art  of  presenting  my  earnest  purposes  in 
the  most  assuring  and  credible  manner.  They  would 
wear,  in  spite  of  me,  an  uneasy  air  of  novelty;  yet  I 
aimed  nobly. 

I  dilated  largely  on  some  of  the  evils  existing  in 
the  present  system  of  education,  and  hinted  at  reforms 
not  yet  meditated  by  the  world  at  large,  but  skilfully 
forgot  to  mention  my  own  qualifications. 

On  reading  the  letter  over,  I  was  astonished  at  the 
flattering  nature  of  the  result,  and,  with  the  buoyant 
pride  of  one  who  believes  he  has  suddenly  discovered  a 
new  resource  in  himself,  I  sent  a  copy  of  my  application 
to  Mary  Taite. 

She  answered  in  the  language  of  sorrowful  reproach : 

"  Oh,  S.,  how  could  you  !  "  I  was  forced  to  conclude 
that,  as  usual,  I  had  somehow  made  a  mis-step,  and  sought 
to  conceal  my  mortification  as  best  I  might,  by  persuading 
myself  and  my  friend  that  I  had  only  regarded  the  matter 
as  a  joke  all  through.  Nevertheless,  I  was  bitterly  dis 
appointed. 

What  was  my  surprise,  then,  a  few  days  afterwards,  to 
receive  this  communication  from  the  Superintendent  of 
Schools : 


10  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  You  are  accepted  to  fill  the  position  of  teacher  in  the 

Kedarville  school."     Then  followed  terse  directions  as  to 

the  best  way  of  reaching  Kedarville,  and,  finally :     "  Mrs. 

Ithamer  Spicer  will  board  you  for  two  dollars  and  fifty 

cents  per  week." 

As  I  read  this  last  clause  everything  that  had  made  a 
sudden  tumult  in  my  mind  before  was  lulled  into  a 
mysterious  calm. 

It  was  not  the  low  valu«  set  upon  the  means  of  sub 
sistence  in  Kedarville.  Mercenary  motives  were,  with  me, 
as  yet,  out  of  the  question.  It  was  not  the  oppressive 
charm  of  Mrs.  Ithamer  Spicer's  name  that  effected  me  so 
strangely. 

It  was  the  expressive  combination  of  the  whole,  at 
once  so  clear  cut  and  unique. 

I  murmured  it  softy  to  myself  on  my  way  home  from 
the  Post-Office. 

"  Han,"  said  I,  quite  gravely,  to  my  elder  sister,  on 
entering  the  house,  "  Mrs.  Ithamer  Spicer  will  board  me 
for  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents  per  week,"  and  handed  her 
the  letter  in  pensive,  though  triumphant,  confirmation  of 
my  words. 

"When  did  you  do  this?"  she  gasped,  and,  before  I 
could  answer  —  "how  are  you  going  to  get  out  of  it? 
she  faintly  demanded. 

"  Simply  by  getting  into  it,  my  dear,"  I  answered,  with 
that  unyielding  sweetness  of  demeanor  for  which  I  fancied 
I  had  ever  been  distinguished  in  the  family  circle. 

1  began  to  make  my  preparations  for  departure  without 
delay. 

Tender  remonstrances,  studied  expostulations,  were 
alike  of  no  avail,  and  they  helped  me  to  pack,  finally— 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  11 

those  dear  good  people  at  home  —  putting  as  brave  a 
face  as  they  could  upon  it,  and  hoping  for  the  best. 

My  father  assured  my  mother,  though  with  trembling 
lip  and  tearful  eye,  that  "  God  would  temper  the  wind  to 
the  shorn  lamb." 

I  smiled  at  the  part  I  was  meant  to  play  in  this 
cheerful  allegory,  though  it  seemed  to  me  rather  in 
appropriate,  as  I  had  a  new  sealskin  cloak  that  very  winter. 

At  the  last,  I  gathered  from  the  new  and  sprightlier  form 
which  the  family  submissiveness  assumed,  as  well  as  from 
certain  inadvertent  disclosures  of  Bridget's,  that  I  was 
confidently  expected  home  again  "in  the  course  of  a 
week  or  two."  And  I  thereupon  doubly  confirmed 
myself  in  the  resolve  to  see  this  thing  through  or  die  in 
the  attempt. 

I  can  not  define  the  motives  which  actuated  me  at  this 
time.  They  do  not  appear  to  have  flowed  in  a  clear  and 
pellucid  stream.  I  discover  a  thirst  for  the  surprising  and 
experimental,  for  situations,  dilemmas,  and  emergencies, 
sustained  by  the  most  sublime  recklessness  as  to  con 
sequences.  Then  I  see  a  dread  of  sinking  into  humdrum 
—  the  impulse  never  to  be  at  rest ;  deeper  than  all  this,  I 
find  a  secret  dissatisfaction  with  myself,  a  vague  longing 
to  use  the  best  that  is  in  me  to  some  true  purpose,  a  desire 
to  leave  the  tangled  skein,  and  "  begin  all  over  again." 

It  was  early  in  January  when  I  set  out  on  my  mission 
to  the  distant  shores  of  Cape  Cod.  It  was  also,  I 
remember,  very  early  in  the  morning,  and  John  Cable 
occupied  a  seat  in  the  car.  I  had  reason  to  know  that 
John  shared  in  the  family  disapproval  of  my  sublime 
conduct.  He  sat,  looking  very  glum,  behind  his 
paper,  and  appeared  not  to  notice  me  when  I  came  in . 


12  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Having  finished  reading  his  paper,  he  gnawed  his 
moustache  and  gazed,  still  with  glaring  unconsciousness  of 
my  presence,  out  of  the  window.  But  as  we  neared  Hart 
ford,  where  I  was  to  take  the  train  for  Boston,  he  came 
over  to  where  I  sat. 

"  I  hope  you  '11  enjoy  yourself  at  Sandy  Creek,  this 
winter,"  he  said. 

Now,  I  knew  that  John  had  designed  this  as  sarcasm 
the  most  scathing,  but  he  was  himself  conscious  of  failure, 
and  the  thought  filled  him  with  deeper  gloom.  He  sought 
to  reveal  his  baffled  intentions  in  a  scowl,  which  lent  to  his 
manly  and  intelligent  features  the  darkness  of  spiritual 
night.  And  I  replied,  that  "  the  recollection  of  his  face, 
<ts  it  then  appeared  to  me,  would  be,  in  itself,  an  in 
spiration  through  all  the  days  to  come." 

There  was  silence  for  a  space,  and  then  John  continued. 

"  Have  you  found  it  on  the  map,  yet?  " 

"What,  please?" 

"  Kedarville  !  "  with  bitter  e  tphasis. 

"  Oh  !  certainly  not." 

"It  may  be  a  little  island  out  there  somewhere,  you 
Know,"  delivered  with  the  effect  of  a  masterpiece. 

"  Yes  ;  or  a  lighthouse,  possibly." 

I  saw  that  John  wished  he  had  thought  of  that  himself. 
He  became  dejected  again.  Then,  presently,  he  threw 
off  the  cloak  of  bitterness  which  sat  so  ill  on  him,  and, 
resuming  his  usual  kindliness  and  benignity  of  manner, 
succeeded  in  making  himself  unconsciously  tantalizing. 

"  If  you  do  find  it,"  he  said,  "  and  if  you  —  if  you 
conclude  to  stay  for  any  length  of  time,  I  think  I  will  go 
down  sometime  this  winter  and  hunt  you  up." 

"  If  you  do,  John  Cable,"  I  answered,  with  unaccount- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  13 

able  warmth,  "  I  '11  never  forgive  you  as  long  as  I  live  — 
never ! " 

At  Hartford,  John  took  the  train  for  Boston,  too.  We 
were  very  old  friends.  Latterly,  we  had  read  Shakespeare 
together  at  the  Newton  Literary  Club.  We  concluded 
not  to  quarrel  for  the  rest  of  the  way.  I  had  an  influx 
of  gay  spirits,  and  John  was  almost  without  exception 
"nice." 

There  were  several  hours  to  wait  in  Boston  before  the 
train  on  the  Old  Colony  Road  would  go  out.  We  had 
dinner  (I  little  realized  how  long  it  would  be  before  I 
should  eat  again),  and  John  tamely  suggested  driving 
about  to  look  at  some  of  the  places  of  interest.  I 
assured  him  that  there  was  nothing  so  dispiriting  as  look 
ing  at  places  of  interest,  and  he  answered,  cheerfully, 
after  some  moments  of  thought,  that  we  could  "  shut  our 
eyes  when  we  went  by  them,  then." 

I  had  reason  to  dread  a  decline  of  spirits.  Mine  were 
rapidly  on  the  wane.  By  the  time  we  stopped  at  the  Old 
Colony  depot  they  were  low,  indeed.  And  the  hardest  of 
all  was,  that  I  would  not,  for  my  life,  let  my  companion 
know.  It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  already 
quite  dark.  The  atmosphere  was  heavy  and  chill ;  the 
sky  ominous  with  clouds.  I  had  an  unknown  journey 
yet  to  take  in  search  of  an  unknown  destination.  The  car 
into  which  I  got  on  the  Cape-bound  train  was  dismal  and 
weird-seeming  enough. 

"  I  wish,  if  you  must  go,  you  would  let  me  see  you  to 
the  end  of  this,"  said  John. 

I  answered,  laughing,  with  an  unnecessary  tinge  of 
defiance  in  my  tone.  It  would  have  been  so  much  easier 
to  have  cried.  I  thought,  "  If  John  would  only  try  to 


14  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

look  cross  again  ! "  as  he  did  in  the  morning  —  anything 
but  that  expression  of  grieved  and  compassionate  dis 
approval  with  which  he  sat,  talking  so  earnestly  to  me,  for 
the  last  few  moments,  in  that  dark  car.  I  thought  he  was 
cruel.  He  was  trying  to  make  me  think,  and  I  was  trying 
so  hard  not  to  think  !  I  felt  a  childish  desire  to  scream 
out.  Then,  when  the  signal  for  starting  rang,  and  John 
took  my  hand  an  instant,  in  parting,  looking  down  at  me 
with  his  kind,  familiar  eyes,  the  impulse  swept  up  strong 
within  me  to  beg  him  to  take  me  out  of  that  dreadful  car 
and  take  me  back  home,  and  I  would  be  good,  oh,  so  good, 
and  "prosy,"  yes,  and  " humdrum,"  and  never  ask  to 
go  on  any  more  missions  to  forlorn  pieces  of  land  sticking 
out  into  the  water. 

So  there  must  have  been  a  wild  extravagance  in  the 
airy  recklessness  of  tone  with  which  I  bade  John  "good 
bye."  A  sense  of  utter  helplessness  came  over  me  as 
as  he  turned  and  went  out. 

I  observed,  particularly,  but  two  passengers  in  the  car. 
One  was  a  man,  very  much  bandaged  as  to  his  head,  who 
sat  gazing  into  the  coal  stove,  which  occupied  the  centre 
of  the  car,  with  weakly  meditative,  burnt-out  eyes.  The 
oilier  was  a  girl,  occupying  the  scat  directly  in  front  of 
me.  She  might  have  been  nine  years  old,  but  she  had  a 
singularly  faded  and  mature  countenance.  As  the  train 
started,  she  turned  to  me  with  some  excitement. 

"  There  ! "  said  she,  pointing  towards  the  window, 
"your  beau's  walking  ofTl  He  *s  walking  fast !  He 
ain  't  looking  back  !  " 

"Thank  you,"  said  I,  in  a  low,  expressionless  tone,  iv>t 
intended  as  an  inducement  to  further  conversation. 

This  girl  had    a   parcel    of  confectionery,  the  con 


GATE    COD    FOLKS.  15 

tents  of  which  she  occasionally  took  out,  and  ranged 
in  a  row  on  the  window  ledge,  selecting  therefrom  the 
smallest  and  least  inviting  fragment,  and  having  eaten 
it  with  the  hasty  air  of  one  who  treats  herself  under 
protest  to  the  luscious  prerogatives  of  childhood,  put  the 
rest  back  in  the  paper  bag,  carefully  replacing  the  string 
every  time.  She  selected  and  handed  to  me  the  very 
largest  specimen  in  her  collection,  which  I  had  the  grace- 
lessness  to  refuse,  though  without  show  of  disgust. 
Afterwards,  she  asked  if  she  might  come  and  sit  in  the 
seat  with  me.  I  thought  she  was  very  disagreeable.  Be 
sides,  I  was  so  miserable  I  wanted  to  commune  apart  with 
my  own  loneliness.  However,  I  made  room  for  her. 

She  proceeded  to  confide  to  me  all  of  her  past  history. 
She  was  returning  home  from  a  visit  to  her  aunt.  Her 
mother  hail  died  a  good  many  years  ago,  "when  Johnnie 
was  a  mere  baby."  She  "  kept  house  for  father  and  took 
care  of  Johnnie."  She  "tried  hard  not  to  have  father 
feel  his  loss.  It  was  very  hard,"  she  added,  giavcly,  "  for 
a  man  to  be  left  alone  so."  She  had  bought  a  little  book 
for  Johnnie,  but  she  never  had  much  time  to  read  ; 
besides,  she  was  n't  quick  to  learn.  She  could  pick  the 
words  out,  to  be  sure,  but,  somehow,  it  did  n't  make  good 
sense,  and  would  1  read  the  book  to  her? 

O!i  to  take  counsel  of  my  own  despair  !  How  dark 
and  wild  it  was  growing  outside!  Where  was  I  going? 
whom  should  I  meet  there? 

And  so  I  read,  at  the  foot  of  gorgeously- illuminated 
pages,  how 

"  HennyJ'cnny  am!  ThieVy  T.ncVy  e^t  started  for  the  fair. 
\V  hen  GOOMC  I'UOMC  and  Turkey  Lurkey  went  out  to  view  the  air," 

etc.,  the  range  of  characters  swiftly  widening  as  the 


16  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

narrative  increased  in  power.  To  my  surprise,  the  mature 
child  listened  to  this  nonsense  with  the  utmost  gravity  and 
interest.  No  shadow  of  derision  played  on  her  attentive 
features.  When  I  had  finished  —  it  was  soon  finished  — 
she  said : 

"Oh,  that  sounded  so  good;  it  made  such  good 
sense,"  and  sighed,  very  wistfully. 

•'  Do  you  want  me  to  read  it  again?  "  I  exclaimed,  in 
despair. 

Would  I  read  it  again  ?  she  asked. 

I  read  it  again. 

After  that  she  was  silent  and  thoughtful  for  some  time. 
Then  she  said,  looking  gravely  into  my  face  : 

"  Do  you  love  Jesus?  " 

"  No,  my  dear,"  said  I,  surprised  into  much  gentleness. 

The  faded  blue  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  had  no 
notion  of  harrassing  me  on  the  subject,  but  spoke  quietly 
and  at  length  of  her  own  religious  convictions. 

The  East  wind  crept  in  through  the  window,  and  once 
my  little  companion  shivered.  I  noticed  that  she  was 
rather  thinly  clad.  I  unstrapped  my  shawl  and  wrapped 
it  around  her.  She  let  her  head  fall  at  my  side,  and  went 
to  sleep. 

Slowly,  I  was  constrained  to  draw  her  up  closer  and 
put  my  arm  around  her  as  support.  In  so  doing,  I 
received  from  some  source  an  unaccountable  strength  and 
calm  of  spirit. 

At  Braintree,  which  the  child  had  told  me  was  her 
home,  I  woke  her  up,  and  she  got  off. 

I  was  to  stop  at  West  Wallen,  the  railway  station  least 
remote  from  Kedarville,  and  expected  there  to  meet  Mrs 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  17 

Abagail  Spicer,  or  some  member  of  that  mysterious 
family,  to  convey  me  to  Wallencamp. 

It  seemed  as  though  the  train  had  had  time  to  travel 
the  whole  interminable  length  of  the  Cape  and  plunge  off 
into  the  ocean  beyond,  when,  in  fact,  we  were  just  enter 
ing  upon  that  peculiar  body  of  land  at  West  Wallen. 

There  was  no  one  there  to  meet  me.  The  little  de*pot 
was  held  by  a  strange  night  brigade  of  boys  and  girls, 
playing  "  blind-man's  buff. "  They  shouted  like  cannibals, 
and  bore  down  on  all  opposing  objects  with  resistless 
force.  I  did  not  attempt  an  entrance.  A  rough,  good- 
natured  looking  man  stood  on  the  platform  outside. 

I  put  on  my  glasses  (I  was  sadly  and  unaffectedly  near 
sighted),  and  having  further  assured  myself  of  his  seeming 
honesty,  enquired  if  there  was  svch  a  place  as  Kedarville 
in  the  vicinity. 

"  Waal,  no,  miss,  thar'  ain  *t,"  said  he,  with  a  noon 
day  smile,  which  informed  me  that  there  was  yet  some 
thing  to  hope  for.  "  Thar  's  no  Kedar?///*  that  I  know 
on.  Thar  's  a  Wallencamp  some  miles  up  yender.  We 
do  n't  often  tackle  no  Sunday  go-to-meeting  names  on  to 
it,  but  I  reckon,  maybe,  it  's  the  same  your  alookin'  for." 

He  had  spoken  with  such  startling  indefiniteness  of  the 
distance  that  I  asked  him  how  far  it  was  to  Wallencamp. 

"  Waal,  thar'  you  Ye  got  me,"  said  he,  beaming  on  me 
in  a  broadly  complimentary  way,  as  though  I  had  actually 
circumvented  him  in  some  skilful  play  at  words.  "Fact 
is,  thar'  ain't  never  been  no  survey  run  down  in  that 
direction  that  I  know  on.  We  call  it  four  miles,  more 
or  less.  That  's  Cape  Cod  measure  —  means  most  any- 
thin'  lineal  measure.  Talkin'  'bout  Cape  Cod  miles," 
he  continued,  with  an  irresistible  air  of  raillery.  "  Little 


18  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Bachclder  Rae  lives  up  thar'  to  Wallcncamp,  and  they 
do  n't  have  no  church  nor  nothin'  thar' ;  so  Bachelder 
and  some  on  'em,  they  come  up  here,  once  in  a  while,  tu 
Sunday-school.  Deacon  Lancy,  he  'd  rather  see  the  Old 
Coy  comin'  into  Sunday-school  class  any  time  than 
Bachelder,  for  he  's  quiet,  the  little  bachelder  is,  but  dry 
as  a  herrin'.  So  the  Deacon  thought  he  'd  stick  him  on 
distances.  The  Deacon  is  a  great  stickle -on  distances 
"  '  How  fur,  Bachelder/  says  he,  '  did  Adam  and  Eve 
go  when  they  was  turned  out  of  the  garden  of  Eden  ? ' 
says  he. 

"  '  Wall,'  says  Bachelder,  coughing  a  little,  so  —  that  *s 
Buchelder's  way  o'  talking  —  '  we  have  sufficient  reason 
to  cenfcr,  Deacon,  that,  in  all  probabeelity,  they  went  a 
Ccctpe  Cod  milt .' " 

My  informant's  delight  at  this  reminiscence  was  huge. 
It  yielded  to  a  more  subdued  sense  of  the  ludicrous 
when  I  asked  him  if  there  was  any  public  conveyance  to 
Wallencnmp  He  made  a  polite  effort  to  restrain  his 
mirth,  but  the  muscles  of  his  face  twitched  violently. 

"  Wall,  no,  miss,"  said  he,  "  we  do  n't  run  no  reg'lar 
express  up  to  Wallencamp  ;  might  be  a  vary  healthy 
oc'pation,  but  not  as  lukcrtivc  as  some,  I  reckon  —  not 
as  lukertive  as  pickin'  'later  bugs :  that  's  what  they  do, 
mostly,  down  thar'.  Fact  is,  miss,"  he  concluded,  with 
considerable  gravity,  "  we  do  n't  vary  often  go  down  to 
Wallencamp  unless  we  're  obliged  to." 

On  my  proposing  to  make  it  lucrative,  he  immediately 
called,  in  a  loud  voice,  to  one  of  the  playful  occupants  of 
the  de"pot : 

"  Hi,  thar  J  'Rasmus  1  'Rasmus  1    Here  's  a  lady  wants 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  19 

to  be  conveyed  down  to  Wallcncamp  ;  you  run  home 
and  tackle,  now  !  You  be  lively,  now  !  " 

'Rasmus  was  lively.  In  a  very  few  moments  something 
of  an  unusual  and  ghostly  appearance  —  so  much  only  I 
could  discover  of  what  afterwards  became  a  very  familiar 
sort  of  vehicle  —  was  waiting  for  me  alongside  the  plat 
form.  The  only  means  of  getting  into  it  was  through  an 
opening  directly  in  front.  Towards  this  I  was  encouraged 
to  climb  over  the  thills,  but  met  with  an  obstacle,  in  the 
form  of  my  trunk,  which  seemed  effectually  to  block  up 
the  entrance. 

"  Thar',  now  !  I  told  ye  so,*'  exclaimed  one  of  the 
bystanders,  a  large  number  of  whom  mysteriously  gathered 
about  the  scene.  "  You  'd  orter  got  licr  in  first." 

A  disconsolate  silence  prevailed.  The  trunk  had  been 
elevated  to  its  present  position  through  the  most  painful 
exertions. 

"  Perhaps  I  can  climb  over  it,"  I  said,  and  bravely 
made  the  attempt. 

No  one  knew  in  the  voiceless  darkness,  of  the 
suddenly  helpless  and  collapsed  condition  in  which  I 
landed  on  the  other  side.  1  groped  about  for  a  seat  and 
finally  succeeded  in  finding  one  at  the  extreme  rear  of 
the  vehicle. 

'Rasmus  drove.  He  was  situated  somewhere,  some 
how  —  I  could  not  tell  where  nor  how  —  in  the  realm  of 
vacancy  on  the  other  side  of  the  trunk;  I  only  know  that 
he  seemed  a  long  way  oil. 

Under  these  circumstances,  conversation  was  rendered 
extremely  difficult.  1  learned  that  Mr.  Ithamer  Spicer 
was  away  at  sea ;  that  Mrs.  Ithamer  Spicer  lived  at  the 


20  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Ark,  with  Cap'n  and  Grandma  Spicer,  and  the  two  little 
Spicers. 

'Rasmus  was  the  unmistakable  son  of  his  father. 

"  And  it  ain't  no  got-up  ark,  neither  !  "  he  yelled  at  me, 
in  a  tone  which  pierced  through  the  distance  and  the 
darkness,  and  every  intervening  obstacle.  "  It  's  the 
reg'lar  old  Ark  !  It  's  what  Noer,  and  the  elephant,  and 
them  fellows  come  over  in  !  " 

I  did  not  wonder,  as  we  journeyed  on,  that  my  inform 
ant  of  the  dc"pot  platform  had  used  his  "ups"  and 
"  downs  "  indiscriminately  in  indicating  the  direction  of 
Wallencamp  • 

In  the  inky  blackness  by  which  I  was  surrounded  I  was 
conscious,  clearly,  of  but  one  sensation — that  of  going 
up  and  down.  The  rumbling  of  the  wheels  reached  me 
as  something  far  off  and  indefinably  dreadful. 

Then  we  stopped,  and  I  crawled  out  like  one  in  a 
dream.  There  was  no  light  at  the  Ark  to  make  it  a  dis 
tinguishable  feature  of  the  gloom.  'Rasmus  found  the 
door  and  knocked  loudly.  I  became  dimly  conscious  of 
the  knocking,  and  followed  'Rasmus. 

"  I  reckon  they  're  to  bed,"  said  he,  and  knocked 
louder. 

Pretty  soon  a  clear,  feminine  voice,  startled  into 
musical  sharpness,  issued  from  a  room  quite  near,  with, — 
"  Who  's  there?  "  and  was  followed  by  two  small,  squeal 
ing  voices,  in  unison, —  "  Who  's  there?" 

Then  other  sounds  arose  —  sounds  from  some  quarter 
nysterious  and  remote  —  a  low,  mumbling,  comfortable 
refrain,  anil  ominous  snatches  of  an  uneasy  grumble ; 
then  a  roar  that  shook  the  Ark  to  its  foundations  : — 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  21 

"  Who  the  devil  's  making  such  a  rumpus  out  there  at 
this  time  in  the  mornin'?  (It  was  nine  o'clock  P.  M.) 

'Rasmus  sent  back  an  intrepid  yell : 

"  It 's  the  tea-cher  !  It  's  pretty  late,"  he  said,  aside, 
to  me.  "  I  guess  I  won't  go  in.  I  reckon  they  won't 
have  much  style  on.  I  seen  ye  pay  father ;  that  's  all 
right.  I  '11  tip  yer  trunk  up  under  the  shed,  and  the  old 
Cap'n  '11  see  to  gettin'  it  in  in  the  mornin'.  Here  's  a 
letter  the  postmaster  sent  down  to  the  Cap'n's  folks. 
Good  night." 

'Rasmus,  my  only  hope  !  I  made  a  convulsive  grasp 
for  him  in  the  darkness,  but  he  was  gone. 

It  was  she  of  the  soothing,  comfortable  voice  who  took 
me  in  ;  and  Grandma  Spicer's  taking  in  I  understand 
always  in  the  divinest  and  fullest  sense  of  the  term. 

Further  than  that,  I  was  conscious  that  there  were 
white-robed  and  night-capped  figures  moving  about  the 
room. 

So  unearthly  was  their  appearance,  that  I  had,  at  last,  a 
confused  notion  of  having  become  disengaged  from  the 
entanglements  of  the  flesh,  and  fallen  in  with  a  small 
planetary  system  in  the  course  of  my  wanderings  through 
space.  The  centre  of  attraction  seemed  to  be  a  table,  to 
•vhich  the  figures  were  constantly  bringing  more  f>ies. 

The  letter  which  'Rasmus  had  directed  me  to  hand  to 
the  "  folks  "  was  read  with  interest,  being  the  one  I  had 
dispatched  from  Newton,  a  week  or  two  before,  informing 
them  as  to  the  time  of  my  arrival. 

Abagail  rendered  the  brief  and  business-like  epistle 
with  the  full  effect  of  her  peculiarly  thrilling  intonation, 
and  Grandma  listened  with  rapt  attention  ;  but,  mean 
while.  Grandpa  Spicer  and  the  two  little  Spicers  found 


23  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

lime  surreptitiously  to  dispose  of  nearly  a  whole  pie,  with 
the  serious  aspect  of  those  who  will  not  allow  a  mere 
fleeting  diversion  to  hinder  them  in  the  improvement  of  a 
rare  opportunity. 

Having  declined  to  partake  of  pie,  through  Grandma 
Spicer's  kind  interposition,  I  was  not  further  urged. 

"Thar',  poor  darlin',"  said  she,  "fix  her  up  a  good 
cup  o*  your  golden  seal,  pa,  and  she  shall  go  to  bed  right 
in  the  parlor  to-night,  scein'  as  we  did  n't  get  the  letter 
and  hain't  got  her  room  fixed  upstairs.  It 's  all  nice  and 
warm,  and  thar',  darlin',  thar',  we  're  r'al  good  for  nussin' 
folks  up." 

In  the  parlor,  I  saw  only  one  great,  delicious  object  — 
a  bed.  My  weary  brain  hardly  exaggerated  its  dimen 
sions,  which  could  not  have  failed  to  strike  with  aston 
ishment  even  the  most  indifferent  observer.  It  was  long  ; 
it  was  broad;  it  was  deep;  and,  alas!  it  was  high.  I 
disrobed  as  best  I  might,  anil  stood  before  it,  gazing 
despairingly  up  at  its  snowy  summit. 

Then,  remembering  my  experience  with  the  trunk,  I 
approached  at  one  extreme,  scaled  the  headboard,  fell 
over  into  an  absorbing  sea  of  feathers,  and,  at  thai  very 
instant  it  seemed,  the  perplexing  nature  o£  mortal  affairs 
ceased  to  burden  my  mind. 


CHAPTER  II. 

1    BLOW    THE    HORN. 

dawned  on  my  mission  to  Wallencamp. 

My  wakening  was   not   an   enthusiastic  one. 

Slowly,  my  bewildered  vision  became  fixed  on 
an  object  on  the  wall  opposite,  as  the  least  fantastic  amid 
a  group  of  objects.  It  was  a  sketch,  in  water  colors,  of 
a  wotnan  in  an  expansive  hoop  and  a  skirt  of  brilliant  hue 
flounced  to  the  waist.  She  stood,  with  a  singularly  erect 
and  dauntless  front,  over  a  grave  on  which  was  written 
"Consort."  I  observed,  with  a  child-like  wonder,  which 
concealed  no  latent  vein  of  criticism,  the  glowing 
carmine  of  her  cheeks,  the  unmixed  blue  of  her  pupil- 
\ess  eyes,  from  a  point  exactly  in  the  centre  of  which  a 
geometric  row  of  tears  curved  to  the  earth.  A  weeping- 
willow —  somewhat  too  green,  alas!  —  drooped  with 
evident  reluctance  over  the  scene,  but  cast  no  shade  on 
its  contrasting  richness.  The  title  of  the  piece  was 
"Bereavement"  Ly  some  strange  means,  it  served  as 
the  pole-star  to  my  wandering  thoughts. 

As  I  gazed  and  wondered,  my  life  took  on    again  a 
definite  form  and  purpose.    The  events  of  the  preceding 


24  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

day  rose  in  gradual  succession  before  me,  and  I  proceeded 
to  descend  from  the  heights  I  had  scaled  the  night  be 
fore. 

I  looked  at  my  watch.  It  was  eight  o'clock,  and  school 
Should  begin  at  nine.  Yet  the  occasion  witnessed  no 
feverish  display  of  haste  on  my  part.  I  saw  that  the 
difficulties  which  I  was  destined  to  endure  in  the  per 
formance  of  my  toilet  that  morning  called  either  for 
philosophy  or  madness.  I  chose  philosophy. 

The  portion  of  the  Ark  surrounding  my  bed  was  cut 
up  into  little  recesses,  crannits, nooks, —  used,  presumably, 
for  storing  the  different  pairs  of  animals  in  the  trying 
events  which  preceded  the  Flood.  In  one  of  these,  I 
had  a  dim  recollection  of  having  secreted  my  clothes,  in 
the  disordered  condition  of  my  brain  the  night  before. 
So  I  cast  desultory  glances  about  me  for  these  articles  on 
the  way,  having  first  set  out  on  a  search  for  a  looking- 
glass.  In  one  dark  recess  I  came  into  forcible  con 
tact  with  a  hanging  shelf  of  pies.  I  thought  what  a 
moment  that  would  have  been  for  Grandpa  Spicer  and 
the  little  Spicers  !  but  I  had  been  brought  up  on  hygienic, 
as  well  as  moral,  principles,  and  moved  away  without  a 
sigh.  In  another  sequestered  nook,  I  paused  with  a  sinful 
mixture  of  curiosity  and  delight  before  a  Chinese  idol 
standing  alone  on  a  pedestal. 

There  was  a  strangeness  and  a  newness  about  things  at 
the  Ark  that  began  to  be  exhilarating.  I  was  reminded, 
in  a  negative  sort  of  way,  that  I  had  intended  to  begin 
my  work  on  this  new  day  with  a  prayer  to  the  true  God 
for  strength  and  assistance.  I  had  found  it  necessary  to 
make  this  resolve  because,  although  I  had  a  "  fixed  habit 
of  prayer,"  it  was  reserved  rather  for  occasions  of  special 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  26 

humiliation  than  resorted  to  as  an  everyday  indulgence  , 
practically,  I  had  wellnigh  dispensed  with  it  altogether. 

However,  I  started  back  in  an  intently  serious  frame 
of  mind  to  find  my  couch.  I  lost  my  way,  and 
stumbling  against  a  swinging  door  which  opened  into  a 
comparatively  spacious  apartment,  what  was  my  joy  to 
discover  my  trunk,  with  the  portmanteau  containing  my 
keys  on  top  of  it. 

1  then  proceeded  to  array  myself  with  an  absorbing 
ardor  and  devotion,  doing  my  hair  before  a  hand-glass 
with  rare  resignation  of  spirit.  I  began  to  feel  more  and 
more  like  an  incorporated  existence,  and  admitted  a 
sudden  eagerness  to  join  the  Spicer  family  at  breakfast. 

I  had  no  hesitation  which  direction  to  take,  being 
guided  by  the  sound  of  voices  and  wafts  of  penetrating 
odors. 

It  was  a  fortunate  direction,  for  I  discovered  on  the 
way  my  lost  apparel  artfully  concealed  under  a  small 
melodeon,  and,  strangely  enough,  I  was  again  brought  face 
to  face  with  my  deserted  couch  and  the  weeping  lady 
on  the  wall.  She  held  me  a  moment  with  the  old  fascina 
tion.  As  I  put  up  my  glasses,  I  thought  I  detected  in 
her  face  a  hitherto  unnoticed  buoyancy  of  expression  : 
and  not  having  wholly  escaped  in  my  life  from  ideas  of  a 
worldly  nature,  I  reflected  that,  probably,  her  regretted 
consort  had  left  her  with  a  sufficient  number  of  thousands. 

In  this  same  connection,  I  was  reminded  that  I,  myself, 
had  started  out  on  an  independent  career,  and  wondered 
if  it  would  be  unkind  or  undutiful  in  me  to  start  a  private 
bank  account  of  my  own.  I  concluded  that  it  would  not. 

When  I  entered  the  little  room  where  the  Spicer  family 
was  assembled : 


te  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

"  Why,  here  's  our  teacher  1 "  exclaimed  Grandma 
Spicer  in  accents  of  delight,  and  came  to  meet  me  with 
outstretched  arms.  "  We  could  n't  abear  to  wake  ye  up, 
dearie,"  she  went  on,  "knowin'  ye  was  so  tired  this 
mornin';  and  there  's  plenty  o'  time  —  plenty  o'  time. 
My  Casindana  come  home  !  "  she  murmured,  with  a  smile 
and  a  tremble  of  the  lips,  and  a  far-away  look,  for  the 
instant,  in  her  gentle  eyes. 

In  fact,  the  whole  Spicer  family  received  me  with 
outstretched  arms.  If  I  had  been  a  long-lost  child,  or  a 
friend  known  and  loved  in  days  gone  by,  I  could  not 
have  been  more  cordially  and  enthusiastically  welcomed. 

The  best  chair  was  set  for  me ;  glances  of  eager  and 
enquiring  interest  were  bent  upon  me. 

I  accepted  it  all  coolly,  though  not  without  a  certain 
air  of  affability,  too,  for  I  had  a  natural  desire  to  make 
myself  agreeable  to  people,  when  it  was  n't  too  much 
trouble ;  but  I  was  quite  firm,  at  this  time,  in  the  con 
viction  that  there  was  little  or  no  faith  to  be  put  in  human 
nature.  On  the  whole,  I  was  much  entertained  and  in 
terested. 

The  two  children  came  to  climb  into  my  lap ;  but  this 
part  of  the  acquaintance  did  not  progress  very  fast.  I 
thought  they  must  have  been  struck  by  something  in  my 
eye  (I  was  merely  wondering  abstractedly  if  their  heads 
were  not  out  of  proportion  to  the  rest  of  their  bodies) ,  for 
they  paused,  and  Mrs.  Ithamer  called  them  away  sharply. 

Mrs.  Ithamer  was  a  frail  little  woman  —  she  could  not 
have  been  over  thirty  or  thirty-two  years  old, —  not  pretty, 
though  she  had  a  very  airy  and  graceful  way  of  comport 
ing  herself.  Her  eyes  were  large  and  dark,  with  a  strange, 
melancholy  gleam  in  them. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  27 

I  never  knew  the  secrets  of  Mrs.  Ithamer's  heart. 
She  had  often  a  tired,  tense  look  about  the  mouth,  and 
seemed  often  sorely  discontent ;  but  she  had  the  sweetest 
voice  I  ever  heard.  She  was  familiarly  called  Abagail . 

Grandpa  or  Cap'n  Spicer  was  over  eighty  years  old. 
He  hul  a  tall,  powerful  frame  —  at  least,  it  spoke  of 
great  power  in  the  past  —  and  I  thought  his  eye  must 
have  been  uncommonly  dark  and  keen  once. 

From  his  manly  irascibility  of  temperament  and  his 
frequent  would-be  authoritativeness  of  tone,  one  might 
have  inferred,  from  a  passing  glimpse,  that  Grandpa  Spicer 
was  something  of  a  tyrant  in  the  family;  but  I  soon 
learned  that  his  sway  was  of  an  extremely  vague  and 
illusory  nature. 

Grandma  Spicer  was  twenty  years  his  junior.  She  had 
not  married  him  until  she  was  herself  quite  advanced  in 
life,  and  had  had  one  husband. 

"  To  be  sure,"  I  heard  her  say  once,  "  I  ain't  quite  so 
far  advanced  as  husband,  but,  then,  it  do  n't  make  no 
difference  how  young  the  girl  is,  you  know." 

She  used  to  sit  down  and  laugh  —  one  of  Grandma's 
"  r'al  good  laughs  "  was  incompatible  with  a  standing 
posture  —  until  the  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks,  and  she 
had  to  wipe  them  off  with  the  corner  of  her  apron. 

She  had  been  thrown  from  a  wagon  once  —  how  often 
and  thrillingly  have  I  heard  dear  Grandma  -Spicer  relate 
the  particulars  of  that  accident !  She  had  broken  at  that 
time,  1  believe,  nearly  every  bone  in  her  body.  Long 
was  the  story  of  her  fall,  but  longer  still  the  tale  of  her 
recuperation. 

In  due  course  of  time,  she  had  grown  together  again ; 
could  now  use  all  her  limbs,  and  was  in  superabundant 


28  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

flesh.  There  was  an  unnatural  sort  of  stiffness  about  her 
movements,  however,  her  way  of  walking  particularly. 
She  advanced  but  slowly,  and  allowed  her  weight  to  fall 
from  one  foot  to  another  without  any  perceptible  bend 
of  any  joint  whatever. 

I  have  stood  at  one  end  of  a  room  and  seen  Grandma 
Spicer  approaching  from  the  other,  when  it  seemed  as 
though  she  was  not  making  any  progress  at  all,  but  merely 
going  through  with  an  odd  sort  of  balancing  process  in 
order  to  maintain  her  equilibrium. 

As  for  Grandma  Spicer's  face,  there  was  enough  in  it 
to  make  several  ordinary  scrimped  faces.  Besides  large 
physical  proportions,  there  was  enough  in  it  of  generosity, 
enough  of  whole-heartedness,  a  world  of  sympathy. 
The  great  catastrophe  of  her  life  had  affected  the 
muscles  of  her  face  so  that  although  she  enunciated 
her  words  very  distinctly,  she  had  a  slow,  automatic 
way  of  moving  her  lips. 

The  room  where  the  breakfast  table  was  set  was  the 
same  that  I  had  entered  first,  on  my  arrival  at  Wallen 
-camp.  It  was  low  and  small,  but  capable,  as  I  learned 
afterward,  of  holding  any  amount  of  things  and  people 
without  ever  seeming  crowded.  There  was  a  cooking 
stove  in  it,  and  many  other  articles  of  modest  worth,  so 
artlessly  scattered  about  as  to  present  a  scene  of  the 
wildest  and  richest  profusion. 

Art  was  not  entirely  wanting,  however.  There  was  a 
ray  of  it  on  the  wall  behind  the  stove  pipe,  the  com 
panion-piece  to  '*  Bereavement,"  entitled  "  Joy,"  and 
represented  my  heroine  of  the  bed-chamber,  reclining  on 
a  rustic  bench  in  rather  an  unflounced  and  melancholy 
condition.  In  one  place  there  hung  a  yellow  family 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  29 

register,  which  was  kept  faithfully  supplied  from  week  to 
week  with  a  wreath  of  fresh  evergreens.  It  was  headed 
by  a  wood  cut  representing  a  funeral,  Grandma  Spicer 
said,  but  Grandpa  Spicer  afterwards  informed  me,  aside, 
with  much  solemnity,  that  it  was  a  "  marriage  ceremony." 
Near  the  foot  of  the  list  of  births,  marriages  and  deaths, 
I  saw  "  Casindana  Spicer ;  died,  aged  twenty." 

We  sat  down  at  the  table.  There  was  a  brief  alterca 
tion  between  Dinslow  and  Grace,  the  little  Spicers, 
in  which  impromptu  missiles,  such  as  spoons  and  knives 
and  small  tin  cups  were  hurled  across  the  table  with 
unguided  wrath,  and  both  infants  yelled  furiously. 

Grandma  had  nearly  succeeded  in  quieting  them,  when 
Abagail  remarked  to  Grandpa  Spicer  in  her  lively  and 
flippant  style, 

"  Come,  pa,  say  your  piece." 

"  How  am  I  going  to  say  anything?  "  enquired  Grand 
pa,  wrathfully,  "  in  such  a  bedlam  ?  " 

"  Thar,  now,  thar !  "  said  Grandma  Spicer,  in  her 
soothing  tone,  "  It  's  all  quiet  now  and  time  we  was  eatin' 
breakfast,  so  ask  the  blessin'  pa,  and  do  n't  let 's  have 
no  more  words  about  it." 

Whereupon  the  old  sea-captain  bowed  his  head,  and, 
with  a  decided  touch  of  asperity  still  lingering  in  his 
voice,  sped  through  the  lines  : 

"  God  bless  the  food  which  now  we  take, 
May  it  do  us  good,  for  Jesus'  sake." 

"Now,  Dinnie,"  said  Grandma  Spicer,  beguilingly, 
but  it  was  not  until  after  much  coaxing  and  threatening 
and  the  promise  of  a  spoonful  of  sugar  when  it  was  over, 
that  Dinslow  was  induced  to  solicit  the  same  blessing,  in 


30  GATE    COD    FOLKS. 

the  same  poetical  terms,  and  with  an  expedition  still 
more  alarming. 

Then  Gracie,  with  tears  not  yet  dried  from  the  late 
conflict,  lifted  up  her  voice  in  a  rapture  of  miniature 
delight,  u  Dinnie  says,  '  gobble  the  food '  !  Dinnie  says, 
'gobble  the  food!'" 

"  Did  n't  say  '  gobble  the  food  ! '  "  exclaimed  Dinslow, 
blacker  than  a  little  thunder  cloud. 

Abagail  anticipated  the  rising  storm,  and  stamped 
her  foot  and  cried, 

"  IVill you  be  still?" 

It  was  Grandma  Spicer,  who  quietly  and  adroitly  re 
stored  peace  to  the  troubled  waters. 

The  Wallencampers  including  the  Spicer  family,  were 
not  accustomed  to  speak  of  bread  as  a  compact  and 
staple  article  of  food,  but  rather  as  one  of  the  hard  means 
of  sustaining  existence  represented  by  the  term  "hunks." 
At  the  table,  it  was  not  "  will  you  pass  me  the  bread?" 
but  —  and  I  shall  never  forget  the  sweet  tunefulness  of 
Abagail 's  tone,  in  this  connection, —  "  Will  you  hand  me 
a  hunk?" 

The  hunks  were  an  unleavened  mixture  of  flour  and 
water,  of  about  the  size  and  consistency  of  an  ordinary 

laborer's  fist. 

• 

I  was  impressed,  in  first  sitting  down  at  the  Spicers' 
table,  with  a  sense  of  my  own  ignorance  as  to  the  most 
familiar  details  of  life,  but  soon  learned  to  speak  confi 
dently  of  "  hunks,"  and  "  fortune  stew,"  and  "  slit  herrin'," 
and  " golden  seal." 

Fortune  stew  was  a  dish  of  small,  round,  blue  potatoes, 
served  perfectly  whole  in  a  milk  gravy. 

I  cherish  the  memory  of  this  dish  as  sacred,  as  well  as 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  31 

that  of  all  the  other  dishes  that  ever  appeared  on  the 
Wallencamp  table.  They  were  the  products  of  faithful 
and  loving  hands  to  which  nature  had  given  a  peculiar 
direction,  perhaps,  but  which  strove  always  to  the  best  of 
their  ability. 

Slit  herrin'  was  a  long,  dried,  deep -salted  edition  of 
the  native  alewife,  a  fish  in  which  Wallencamp  abounded. 
They  hung  in  massive  tiers  from  the  roofs  of  the  Wallen 
camp  bams.  The  herrin'  was  cut  open,  and  without 
having  been  submitted  to  any  mollifying  process  whatever, 
not  one  assuaging  touch  of  its  native  element,  was  laid 
flat  in  the  spider,  and  fried. 

I  saw  the  Spicer  family,  from  the  greatest  to  the 
least,  partake  of  this  arid  and  rasping  substance  unblink- 
ingly,  and  I  partook  also.  The  brine  rose  to  my  eyes 
and  coursed  its  way  down  my  cheeks,  and  Grandma 
Spicer  said  I  was  "  homesick,  poor  thing  !  " 

The  golden  seal,  a  "remedy  for  toothache,  head 
ache,  sore-throat,  sprains,  etc.,  etc.,"  was  served  in 
a  diluted  state  with  milk  and  sugar,  and  taken  as  a  bever 
age.  The  herrin'  had  destroyed  my  sense  of  taste ;  any 
thing  in  a  liquid  state  was  alike  delectable  to  me,  and 
while  I  drank,  I  had  a  sense  of  having  become  somehow 
mysteriously  connected  with  the  book  of  Revelations. 
"We  used  to  think,"  Grandma  proceeded  mildly  to 
elucidate,  "  that  it  had  ought  to  be  took  externally,  but 
husband,  he  was  painin'  around  one  time,  and  nothin' 
did  n't  seem  to  do  him  no  good,  and  so  we  ventured 
some  of  it  inside  of  him,  and  he  did  n't  complain  no 
more  for  a  great  while  afterwards."  I  appreciated  the 
hidden  meaning  of  these  words  when  I  saw  how  sparingly 
Grandpa  Spicer  partook  of  the  golden  seal.  "  So  then 


39  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

we  tried  some  of  it  ourselves,  and  ra'ly  begun  to  like  it,  so 
we  Ve  got  into  the  habit  of  drinkin'  it  along  through  the 
winter,  it's  so  quietin'  and  may  not  be  no  special  need  of 
it,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  but  then,  it's  allus  well  enough  to 
be  on  the  safe  side,  for  there's  no  knowin',"  concluded 
Grandma,  solemnly,  "what  disease  may  be  a  growin' 
up  inside  of  you. 

"  My  brother  invented  on  't,"  said  Grandpa  Spicer, 
looking  up  at  me  from  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows  with 
questionable  pride.  He  went  on  more  glowingly,  however, 
"  There's  a  picter  of  my  brother  on  every  bottle,  teacher." 
( Abagail  immediately  ran  from  her  chair,  went  into  an 
adjoining  room  and  brought  out  a  bottle  to  show  me.) 
"  Ye  see,  he  used  to  wear  them  air  long  ringlets,  though 
he  was  a  powerful  man,  John  was ;  but  his  hair  curled  as 
pretty  as  a  girl's.  Oh,  he  was  a  great  dandy,  John  was ; 
a  great  dandy."  Grandpa  Spicer  straightened  himself  up 
and  his  eyes  brightened  preceptibly. 

"  Never  wore  nothin'  but  the  finest  broad-cloth ;  why, 
there  's  a  pair  of  black  broad-cloth  pants  o'  his  'n  that 
you  '11  see,  come  Sunday,  teacher  ! " 

"Wall  thar  now,  pa,"  said  Grandma  Spicer,  reprov 
ingly,  "  I  would  n't  tell  everything." 

"  Le'  me  see,"  continued  Grandpa,  "  I  had  eight 
brothers,  teacher,  yis,  yis,  there  was  nine  boys  in  all," 
nodding  his  head  emphatically,  and  proceeding  to  count 
on  his  fingers. 

Grandma  Spicer  laid  her  knife  and  fork  aside,  as  though 
she  felt  that  the  occasion  was  an  important  one,  and 
that  she  had  a  grave  duty  to  perform  in  regard  to  it. 

"  Thar  was  Philemon,  he  comes  first,  that  makes  one, 
do  n't  it?  and  there  was  Doddridge — " 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  33 

"  Sure  he  comes  next,  pa?"  interposed  Grandma,  "for 
now  you  air  namin1  of  'em,  you  might  as  well  git  'em 
right." 

"  Yis,  yis,  ma,"  replied  the  old  man,  hastily.  "  Then 
there  was  Winfield  and  John,  they  're  all  dead  now, 
and  Bartholomew,  he  was  first  mate  in  a  sailin'  vessel,  fine 
man,  Bartholomew  was,  fine  man  ;  he —  " 

"  Wall,  thar  now,"  said  Grandma,"  you  '11  never  git 
through  namin'  on  'em,  pa,  if  you  stop  to  talk  about 
'em." 

"Yis,  yis,"  continued  Grandpa,  hopelessly  confused, 
and  showing  dark  symptoms  of  smouldering  wrath,  "  there 
was  Bartholomew.  That  makes  a,  —  le'  me  see, 
Bartholomew,  —  " 

"How  many  Bartholomews  was  there?"  enquired 
Grandma,  with  pitiless  coolness  of  demeanor. 

"  Thar,  now,  ma,  ye  've  put  me  all  out ! "  cried  Grand 
pa,  taking  refuge  in  loud  and  desperate  reproach,  "  I  was 
gittin'  along  first-rate,  why  could  n't  ye  a  kept  still  and 
let  me  reckoned  'em  through  ?  " 

"  Yer  mus  n't  blame  me,  pa,  'cause  yer  ca'  n't  carry  yer 
own  brothers  in  yer  head."  There  was  a  touch  of 
gentle  reproach  in  Grandma's  calm  voice.  "Why, 
there  was  my  mother's  cousin  'Statia,  that  was  only  second 
cousin  to  me,  and  no  relation  at  all,  on  my  father's  side, 
and  she  had  thirteen  children,  three  of  'em  was  twins  and 
one  of  'em  wasthrins,  and  I  could  name  'em  all  through, 
and  tell  you  what  year  they  was  born,  and  what  day,  and 
who  vaccinated  'em.  There  was  Amelia  Day,  she  was 
born  April  ninth,  eighteen  hundred  and  seventeen,  Doctor 
Sweet  vaccinated  her,  and  it  took  in  five  days."  And  so 
on  Grandma  went  through  the  entire  Hst,  gradually  going 
a 


84  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

more  and  more  into  particulars,  but  always  coming  out 
strong  on  the  main  facts. 

The  effect  could  not  have  failed  to  deepen  in  Grandpa's 
bosom  a  mortifying  sense  of  his  own  incompetency. 

When  I  got  up  from  the  Spicers*  breakfast  table  there 
was  something  choking  me  besides  the  hcrrin'  and  golden 
seal,  and  it  was  not  homesickness,  either ;  but  as  I  stepped 
out  of  Mrs.  Ithamer's  low  door  into  the  light  and  air,  all 
lesser  impulses  were  forgotten  in  a  sudden  glow  and  thrill 
of  exultation.  I  wondered  if  that  far,  intense  blue  was 
the  natural  color  of  the  Cape  Cod  sky  in  winter,  and  if  its 
January  sun  always  showered  down  such  rich  and  golden 
beams.  There  was  no  snow  on  the  ground ;  the  fields 
presented  an  almost  spring-like  aspect,  in  contrast  with 
the  swarthy  green  of  the  cedars.  The  river  ran  sparkling 
in  summer-fashion  at  the  foot  of  "  Eagle  Hill."  From 
the  bay,  the  sea  air  came  up  fresh  and  strong.  I  drank 
it  with  deep  inspirations.  At  that  moment  it  seemed  to 
me  that  I  had  indeed  been  born  to  perform  a  mission.  It 
was  so  hopeful  to  turn  over  an  entire  fresh  leaf  in  the  book 
of  life,  and  I  was  resolved  to  do  it  heroically,  at  any  cost. 
I  reflected,  not  without  a  shade  of  annoyance,  that  I 
had  forgotten  to  say  my  prayers,  after  all.  At  the  same 
time  I  had  a  sort  of  conviction  that  it  was  n't  so  unfortunate 
a  remissness  on  my  part  as  it  would  have  been  for  some 
less  qualified  by  nature  to  take  care  of  themselves. 

I  discovered  the  school-house  at  the  end  of  the  lane. 
The  general  air  of  the  Wallencamp  houses  was  stranded 
and  unsettled,  as  though,  detained  in  their  present  posi 
tion  for  some  brief  and  restless  season,  they  dreamed  ever 
of  unknown  voyages  yet  to  be  made  on  the  sea  of  life. 
They  were  very  poor,  very  old.  Some  of  them  were 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  35 

painted  red  in  front,  some  of  them  had  only  a  red  door, 
being  otherwise  quite  brown  and  unadorned.  There  was 
one  exception,  —  Emily  Gaskell's  —  that  stood  on  the 
hill,  and  was  painted  all  over  and  had  green  blinds. 

I  heard  a  mighty  rushing  sound  mingled  with  whoops 
and  yells  and  the  terrible  clamp  of  running  feet,  and  was 
made  aware  that  a  detachment  from  my  (lock  was  coming 
up  the  lane  to  meet  me. 

A  girl,  taller  than  I,  with  stooping  shoulders  and  a 
piquant  and  good  natured  cast  of  features,  seized  my 
hand  and  swung  it  in  childish  and  confiding  fashion.  She 
had  warts.  I  wondered,  uneasily,  if  they  would  be  conta 
gious  through  my  gloves. 

I  was  struck  with  the  uncommon  beauty  of  one  sturdy 
little  fellow.  He  was  barefooted  (on  Cape  Cod,  in  Janu 
ary),  and  ragged  enough  to  have  satisfied  the  most  crazy 
devotee  of  the  picturesque.  His  shapely  head  was  set  on 
his  shoulders  in  an  exceedingly  high-bred  way,  while  its 
bad  archangel  effect  was  intensified  by  rings  of  curling 
black  hair  and  great,  seductive  black  eyes. 

The  children  walked  back,  in  comparative  quiet,  toward 
the  school  house,  except  the  boy.  To  him  care  was 
evidently  a  thing  unknown.  He  managed,  while  keep 
ing  the  distance  undiminished  between  himself  and  me,  to 
perform  a  great  variety  of  antics,  in  which,  by  way  of  an 
occasional  relief,  his  head  was  seen  to  rise  above  his 
heels. 

Emily's  wash  had  been  left  out  to  dry  during  the  night. 
The  wind  had  torn  various  articles  from  the  line  and 
carried  them  down  in  the  direction  of  the  lane  fence. 

My  gymnastic  performing  imp  vanished  through  the 
bars.  In  ar»  incredibly  short  space  of  time  he  reappeared 


3«  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

clothed— but,  alas  !  I  cannot  tell  how  the  imp  was  clothed, 
except  to  say  that  Emily  being  a  tall  woman  and  the  imp 
but  a  well  grown  boy  of  ten,  the  effect  was  voluminous, 
and  oriental. 

This  part  of  the  lane  was  marked  by  some  insignificant 
though  very  abrupt  depressions  and  elevations  of  the 
surface.  Occasionally  he  of  the  floating  apparel  was 
lost  to  sight ;  then  he  would  appear  all  glorious  on  some 
small  height,  while  the  mind  was  compelled  to  revert 
Irreverently  to  the  picture  of  Moses  on  Mt.  Pisgah.  He 
was  the  personification  of  impudence,  withal,  looking  back 
and  showing  his  teeth  in  superlative  appreciation  of  his 
own  sinfulness.  He  descended,  and  I  looked  to  see  him 
arise  again,  but  I  saw  him  no  more. 

I  had  a  faint  and  fleeting  vision,  afterwards,  of  an  apos 
tolic  figure  flying  back  across  the  fields.  It  was  so  indis 
tinct  as  to  remain  only  among  the  ephemera  of  my  fancy. 

In  a  fork  of  the  roads,  opposite  the  school-house,  stood 
a  house  with  a  red  door.  It  was  loaded,  in  summer 
with  honeysuckle  vines.  Aunt  Pucinda  sat  always  at  the 
window.  Sometimes  she  had  the  asthma  and  sometimes 
she  sang.  This  morning,  her  favorite  refrain  from  the 
Moody  &  Sankey  Hymnal  was  wafted  in  loud  accents  up 
the  lane: 

"Dar'tobeaDanyelll 
Dar"  to  be  a  Danyell ! 
Dai*  to  make  it  known  t  " 

As  I  entered  the  school-house,  the  inspiring  strains  still 
followed  me. 

There  was  a  large  Franklin  stove  within,  which  ex 
hibited  the  most  enormous  draught  power,  emitting  sparks 
and  roaring  in  a  manner  frightful  to  contemplate. 

Aunt  Patty,  who  acted  the  part  of  janitoress  of  the 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  37 

school-house  at  night  and  morning,  had  written  on  the 
blackboad  in  a  large  admonitory  hand,  "  No  spitting  on 
this  floor,  you  ninnies  !  " 

The  bench,  containing  the  water  pail,  occupied  the 
most  central  position  in  the  room.  At  one  side  of  the 
bench  hung  a  long  handled  tin  dipper ;  on  the  other, 
another  tin  instrument,  resembling  an  ear  trumpet,  pro 
foundly  exaggerated  in  size. 

"  That's  what  you  Ve  got  to  blow  to  call  us  in,"  ex 
claimed  a  small  child,  with  anticipative  enlivenment. 

I  went  to  the  door  with  the  instrument. 

"  Dar'  to  be  a  Danyell ! 
Dar'  to  make  it  known." 

The  stirring  measures  came  across  from  Aunt  Pucinda's 
window.  Then  the  singer  paused. 

There  were  other  faces  at  other  windows.  The  coun 
tenances  of  the  boys  and  girls  gathered  about  the  door 
were  ominously  expressive.  I  lifted  the  horn  to  my  lips. 
I  blew  upon  it  what  was  intended  for  a  cheerful  and 
exuberant  call  to  duty,  but  to  my  chagrin  it  emitted  no 
sound,  whatever.  I  attempted  a  gentle,  soul-stirring 
strain ;  it  was  as  silent  as  the  grave.  I  seized  it  with  both 
hands  and,  oblivious  to  the  hopeful  derision  gathering 
on  the  faces  of  those  about  me,  I  breathed  into  it  all  the 
despair  and  anguish  of  my  expiring  breath.  It  gave  forth 
a  hollow,  soulless  and  lugubrious  squeak,  utterly  out  of 
proportion  to  the  vital  force  expended,  yet  I  felt  that  I 
had  triumphed,  and  detected  a  new  expression  of  awe 
and  admiration  on  the  faces  of  my  flock. 

"  I  do  n't  see  how  she  done  it,"  I  heard  one  freckled- 
faced  boy  exclaim,  confidingly  to  another,  "  with  a  hull 
button  in  thar." 

"  Who  put  the  button  in  the  horn?"  I  enquired  of  the 


38  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

youngster,  afterwards,  quite  in  a  pleasant  tone,  and  with  a 
smile  on  which  I  had  learned  to  depend  for  a  particularly 
delusive  effect;  at  the  same  time  I  put  up  my  glasses  to 
impress  him  with  a  sense  of  awe. 

"  Simmy  B.,"  he  answered. 

"  And  which  is  Simmy  B.  ?  "  I  questioned,  glancing 
about  the  school  room. 

"  Oh,  he  ain't  comin'  in,"  gasped  my  informer,  "  he 
run  over  cross-lots  with  Emily's  clo's  on." 

I  had  planned  not  to  confine  my  pupils  to  the  ordinary 
method  of  imbibing  knowledge  through  the  medium  of 
text  books,  but  by  means  of  lectures,  which  should  be 
interspersed  with  lively  anecdotes  and  rich  with  the 
fruitful  products  of  my  own  experience, to  teach  them. 

My  first  lecture  was,  quite  appropriately,  on  the  duty  of 
close  application  and  faithful  persistence  in  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge,  depicting  the  results  that  would  inevi 
tably  accrue  from  the  observance  of  such  a  course,  and, 
here  glowing  and  dazzled  by  my  theme,  I  even  secretly 
regretted  that  modesty  forbade  me  to  recommend  to  my 
pupils,  as  a  forcible  illustration,  one  who  occupied  so  con 
spicuous  a  position  before  them. 

My  new  method  of  instruction,  though  not  appreciated 
perhaps,  in  its  intrinsic  design,  was  received,!  could  not 
but  observe,  with  the  most  unbounded  favor. 

After  the  first  open-mouthed  surprise  had  passed  away 
from  the  countenances  of  my  audience,  I  was  loudly 
importuned  on  all  sides  for  water.  I  was  myself  ex 
travagantly  thirsty.  I  requested  all  those  who  had  "sin 
herrin'  "  for  breakfast  to  raise  their  hands. 

Every  hand  was  raised. 

I  gravely  enquired  if  slit  herrin'  formed  an  ordinary  or 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  39 

accustomed  repast  in  Wallcncamp,  and  was  unanimously 
assured  in  the  affirmative. 

After  dwelling  briefly  on  the  gratitude  that  should  fill 
our  hearts  in  view  of  the  unnumbered  blessings  of  Provi 
dence,  I  inaugurated  a  system  by  which  a  pail  of  fresh 
water  was  to  be  drawn  from  one  of  the  neighboring  wells, 
and  impartially  distributed  among  the  occupants  of  the 
school-room,  once  during  each  successive  hour  of  the  day. 
The  water  was  to  be  passed  about  in  the  tin  dipper,in  an 
orderly  manner,  by  some  member  of  the  flock,  properly 
appointed  to  that  office,  cither  on  account  of  general 
excellence  or  some  particular  mark  of  good  behavior, 
though  I  afterwards  found  it  advisable  not  to  insist  on  any 
qualifications  of  this  sort,  but  to  elect  the  water-bearers 
merely  according  to  their  respective  rank  in  age.  This 
really  proved  to  be  one  of  the  most  lively  and  interesting 
exercises  of  the  school,  was  always  cheerfully  undertaken, 
executed  in  the  most  complete  and  faithful  manner,  and 
never  on  any  account  forgotten  or  omitted. 

I  drank,  and  continued  my  lecture,  but  the  first  look  of 
attractive  surprise  never  came  back  to  the  faces  of  my 
audience.  They  sought  diversion  in  a  variety  of  ways, 
acquitting  themselves  throughout  with  a  commendable 
degree  of  patience  until  they  found  it  necessary  gently  to 
admonish  me  that  it  was  time  for  recess. 

After  recess,as  the  result  of  deep  meditation,  in  which 
I  had  concluded  that  the  mind  of  the  Wallencamp  youth 
was  not  yet  prepared  for  the  introduction  of  new  and  ad 
vanced  methods,  I  examined  my  pupils  preparatory  to 
giving  them  lessons  and  arranging  them  in  classes,  in  the 
ordinary  way.  I  found  that  they  could  not  read,  but  they 
could  write  in  a  truly  fluent  and  unconventional  style; 


40  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

They  could  not  commit  prosaical  facts  to  memory,  but 
they  could  sing  songs  containing  any  number  of  irrelevant 
stanzas.  They  could  not  cipher,  but  they  had  witty  and 
salient  answers  ready  for  any  emergency.  There  seemed 
to  be  no  particular  distinction  among  them  in  regard  to  the 
degree  of  literary  attainment,  so  I  arranged  them  in 
classes,  with  an  eye  mainly  to  the  novel  and  picturesque 
in  appearance. 

They  were  a  little  disappointed  at  the  turn  in  affairs, 
having  evidently  anticipated  much  from  the  continuation 
of  the  lecture  system,  yet  they  were  disposed  to  look 
forward  to  school-life,  in  any  case,  as  not  without  its 
ameliorating  conditions. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  BEAUS  OF  WALLENCAMP  PERFORM  A  GRAVE  DUTY. 

]E  have  our  r'al,  good,  comfortin'  meal,  at 
night,"  Grandma  Spicer  had  said,  and  the 
thought  was  uppermost  in  my  mind  at  the 
close  of  my  first  day's  labor  in  Wallencamp.  I  had  taken 
a  walk  to  the  beach,  a  strong  east  wind  had  come  up,  and 
the  surf  was  rolling  in  magnificently ;  a  wild  scene,  from 
a  wild  shore,  more  awful  then,  in  the  gathering  gloom. 
The  long  rays  of  light  streaming  out  of  the  windows  of 
the  Ark,  guided  me  back  across  the  fields.  Within,  all 
was  warmth  and  cheer  and  festive  expectation.  Grandma 
Spicer  was  in  such  spirits ;  a  wave  of  mirthful  inspiration 
would  strike  her,  she  would  sink  into  a  chair,  the  tears 
would  roll  down  her  cheeks,  and  she  would  shake  with 
irrepressible  laughter.  It  was  in  one  of  her  serious 
moments  that  she  said  to  me : 

"Thar,  teacher,  I  actually  believe  that  I  ain't  made 
you  acquainted  .with  my  two  tea-kettles."  They  stood 
side  by  side  on  the  stove,  one  very  tall  and  lean,  the  other 
very  short  and  plump.  "This  'ere,"  said  Grandma, 
pointing  to  the  short  one,  "is  Rachel,  and  this  'ere," 
pointing  to  the  tall  one,  "is  Abigail,  and  Abigail's  a  grace 
ful  creetur*  to  be  sure,"  Grandma  reflected  admiringly, 
"  but  then,  Rachel  has  the  most  powerful  delivery  1 " 


43  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

I  was  thus  enabled  to  understand  the  allusions  I  had 
already  heard  to  Rachel's  being  "  dry,"  or  Abigail's  being 
as  "  full  as  a  tick,"  or  vice  versa. 

The  table  was  neatly  spread  with  a  white  cloth ;  there 
was  an  empty  bowl  and  a  spoon  at  each  individual's  place. 
In  the  centre  of  the  table  stood  a  pitcher  of  milk  and  a 
bowl  of  sugar.  Grandpa  Spicer  having  asked  the  bless 
ing  after  the  approved  manner  of  the  morning,  there  was  a 
general  uprising  and  moving,  bowl  in  hand,  towards  the 
cauldron  of  hulled  corn  on  the  stove.  This  was  lively, 
and  there  was  a  pleasurable  excitement  about  skimming 
the  swollen  kernels  of  corn  out  of  the  boiling,  seething 
liquid  in  which  they  were  immersed.  Eaten  afterwards  with 
milk  and  sugar  and  a  little  salt,  the  compound  became 
possessed  of  a  truly  "  comforting  "  nature. 

I  stood,  for  the  second  time,  over  the  kettle  with  my 
eye-glasses  securely  adjusted,  very  earnestly  and  thought 
fully  occupied  in  wielding  the  skimmer,  when  the  door  of 
the  ark  suddenly  opened  and  a  mischievously  smiling 
young  man  appeared  on  the  threshold.  He  was  not  a 
Wallencamper,  I  saw  at  a  glance.  There  was  about  him  an 
unmistakable  air  of  the  great  world.  He  was  fashionably 
dressed  and  rather  good  looking,  with  a  short  upper  lip, 
and  a  decided  tinge  of  red  in  his  hair.  He  stood  staring 
at  rre  with  such  manifest  appreciation  of  the  situation  in 
his  laughing  eyes,  that  I  felt  a  barbarous^mpulse  to  throw 
the  skimmer  of  hot  corn  at  him.  It  was  as  though  some 
flimsy  product  of  an  advanced  civilization  had  come  in  to 
SJjeer  at  the  sacred  customs  of  antiquity. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  the  intruder  began,  addressin. 
the  Spicer  family  with  exceeding  urbanity  of  voice  ami 
manner,  "  I  fear  that  I  have  happened  in  rather  inoppor 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  43 

timely,  but  I   dared  not  of  course  transgress  our  happy 
Arcadian  laws  by  knocking  at  the  door." 

"  Oh,  Lordy,  yis,  yis,  and  the  fewer  words  the  better. 
You  know  our  ways  by  this  time,  fisherman,"  exclaimed 
Grandpa  Spicer.  "  Come  in  !  come  in  !  Nobody  that 
calls  me  friend  need  knock  at  my  door." 

"  Come  in  !  come  in,  fisherman  !  Won't  you  set,  fish 
erman?  "  hospitably  chimed  in  Grandma  Spicer. 

"  Ah,  thank  you  !  may  I  consider  your  kind  invitation 
deferred,  merely,"  said  the  fisherman,  suavely,  "and 
excuse  me  if  I  introduce  a  little  matter  of  business  with 
the  Captain.  We  carelessly  left  our  oars  on  the  banks, 
yesterday,  Captain  Spicer,  they  were  washed  off,  I  have 
ordered  some  more,  but  can't  get  them  by  to-morrow.  I 
hear  you  have  a  pair  laid  by,  1  should  like  to  purchase." 

"  What,  is  it  the  old  oars  ye  .vant  ?"  interrupted  Grand 
pa,  "why,  Lord  a  massy  !  you  know  whar  they  be,  fisher 
man,  alongside  that  old  pile  o'  rubbish  on  hither  side  o' 
the  barn,  and  do  n't  talk  about  purchasin' — take  'em  and 
keep  'em  as  long  as  ye  want,  they  ain't  no  account  to  me, 
now." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  Captain,"  the  fisher 
man  said,  "I  am  very  sorry  to  have  interrupted  this 
—  a  —  " 

"  Why,  no  interruption,  I  'm  sure,"  said  Grandma  Spicer, 
good  naturedly,  "  we  Ve  kep'  right  along  eatin'." 

"Want  a  lantern  to  look  for  'em,  eh?"  enquired 
Grandpa  Spicer,  for  the  fisherman  lingered,  hesitating, 
on  the  threshold. 

"  This  is  our  teacher,  fisherman,"  said  Grandma,  in  her 
gentle,  tranquilizing  tones,  "and  this  'ere  is  one  of 


44  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Emily's  fishermen,  teacher,  and  may  the  Lord  bless  ye  in 
yer  acquaintance,"  she  added  with  simple  fervor. 

The  fisherman  saluted  me  with  a  bow  which  reflected 
great  credit  on  his  former  dancing-master.  He  mur 
mured  the  polite  formula  in  a  low  tone,  at  the  same  time 
shooting  another  covertly  laughing  glance  at  me  out  of 
his  eyes.  As  the  door  closed  behind  him,  "  Ah,  that  's 
a  sleek  devil ! "  said  Grandpa  Spicer,  giving  me  a  meaning 
glance  from  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows. 

"  Wall  thar  now,  pa,  I  would  n't  blaspheme,  not  if 
I  'd  made  the  professions  you  have,"  said  Grandma,  with 
grave  reproval. 

"  A  sleek  dog,"  continued  Grandpa  Spicer,  "  tongue 
as  smooth  as  butter,  all '  how  d'  yer  do  ! '  and  '  how 
d'  yer  do ! '  but  I  do  n't  trust  them  fishermen  much, 
myself,  teacher." 

"  Who  are  the  fishermen  ?  "  I  enquired. 

"They  board  up  to  Emily's,"  said  Grandma.  "They 
come  from  Providence  and  around,  and  they  stay  here  off 
and  on,  a  week  or  two  to  time,  along  through  the  winter, 
some  of  'em.  They  fish  pickerel  on  the  river,  and  some 
times  they  're  blue  fishin'  out  in  the  bay,  and  quite 
generally  they  're  just  kitin'  round  as  young  men  will,  I 
suppose.  Sometimes  they  have  vittles  sent  to  'em,  and 
Emily  she  cooks  for  'em." 

"  Why,  they  're  off  on  a  spree,  that 's  all,"  said  Grandpa 
Spicer,  comprehensively,  giving  me  another  significant 
glance,  "  they  're  off  on  a  spree,  and  ye  see,  they  think 
this  'ere  is  jest  a  right  fur  enough  out  the  way  place  for 
'em.  This  'ere  red  haired  one  that  was  in  here  this 
evenin',  Turner,  his  name  is,  he  's  a  dreadful  rich  one,  I 
suppose,  dreadful  rich  1  I  Ve  heered  all  about  him. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  46 

He  's  an  old  bachelder,  I  reckon,  that  is,  he  keeps  mighty 
spruce,  but  I  reckon  he  's  hard  on  to  thirty.  Emily's 
got  a  cousin  that  works  for  some  'o  them  big  folks  down 
to  Providence,  and  she  's  heered  all  about  him,  this  red- 
haired  one,  and  how  he  keeps  a  big  house  down  thar, 
and  sarvants  enough,  massy !  and  half  the  time  he  's  hither 
and  yon  and  a  throwin'  out  money  like  water.  His  father 
and  mother  they  're  dead,  so  I  Ve  heered,  and  he  used 
to  have  gardeens  over  him,  but  he  haint  kep'  no  gardeens 
lately,  I  reckon,"  said  Grandpa,  with  grim  facetiousness. 

"Why,  he's  been  a  waitin'  on  Bede's  daughter, 
down  here— Ethel.  She  goes  to  school  to  you,  teacher," 
the  old  man  added,  presently,  brightening  with  a  senile 
.predilection  for  gossip. 

4<  Ethel's  a  very  sensible  girl,"  said  Grandma  Spicer, 
"  and  don't  cast  no  sheep's  eyes,  but  goes  right  along 
and  minds  her  own  business.  Ethel  plays  very 
purty  on  the  music,  too." 

"Yes.  But  you  know  Eliot  Turner  wouldn't  any 
more  think  of  marrying  Ethel  Kent  than  he  would  of 
marrying  me,"  cried  Mrs.  Ithamer.  "Of  all  the  fisher 
men  that  have  come  down  here,  not  one  of  them 
ever  married  in  Wallencamp.  He's  just  trifling,  and 
she  thinks  he's  in  real  earnest ;  anybody  can  see  that. 
You've  only  to  mention  his  name  to  see  her  flush  up 
as  red  as  a  rose.  I  tell  you  this  is  a  strange  world," 
Abagail  snapped  out,  sharply,  "and  Eliot  Turner,  I 
suppose,  is  one  of  the  gentlemen." 

"  We  ain't  no  right  to  say  but  what  he's  honest,"  said 
Grandma  Spicer,  "  Ethel  she's  honest  herself,  and  she 
takes  it  in  other  folks.  She's  more  quiet  than  some 
of  our  girls  be,  and  higher  notions,  and  she's  young 


48  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

ind  haint  never  been  away  nowhere,  and  no  wonder  if  he 
\vaits  on  her  she  should  take  a  kind  o'  fancy  to  him." 

"You  know,  ma,"  continued  Abagail,  "that  Eliot 
Turner  would  never  take  her  home  among  his  folks, 
never;  and  if  I  was  Ethel's  mother,  I'd  shut  the  door 
in  his  face  before  I'd  ever  have  him  fooling  around 
my  house,  and  she  should  never  stir  out  of  the  house  with 
him,  never ! " 

"I  don't  suppose  there's  much  use  in  talking  to 
the  girl,"  said  Grandma,  "Emily. was  in  here  the  other 
day,  and  Ethel,  she  happened  to  come  in  the  same  time, 
and  I  didn't  see  no  use  in  Emily's  speaking  up  in  the  way 
she  did  for  says  she,  *  What  do  you  have  that  El '  Turner 
flirtin'  around  you  for,  Ethel?  What  do  you  suppose 
he  wants  o'  you  'cept  to  amuse  himself  a  little  while  when 
he  ain't  nothin'  better  to  do  and  then  go  off  and 
forgit  he's  seen  ye  ! '  And  Ethel  didn't  say  nothin',  but 
she  give  Emily  a  dreadful  long,  quiet  kind  of  a  look  out  of 
her  eyes." 

''She  hasn't  lost  quite  all  of  Bede's  temper  since  she's 
been  seeking  religion,"  said  Abagail,  in  a  strangely  light 
and  vivacious  tone.  Grandma  and  Grandpa  Spicer, 
by  the  way,  were  good  Methodists,  but  Abagail  was  not 
a  "  professor." 

"Seekin'  religion,  eh?"  inquired  Grandpa  Spicer. 
''She'd  better  let  Eliot  Turner  alone,  then,"  he 
added. 

"Let  us  hope  that  we  shall  all  on  us  be  brought 
to  a  better  state  of  mind,"  concluded  Grandma  Spicer, 
with  solemn  pertinency. 

Before  the  meal  was  finished  and  the  table  cleared 
away,  the  latch  of  the  ark  had  been  often  lifted. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  47 

On  all  occasions,  afterwards,  there  was  a  marked 
and  cheerful  variety  in  the  nature  of  the  droppers-fri 
at  the  ark — the  children  and  all  the  young  men  and 
maidens  making  their  appearance  with  a  promiscuousncss 
which  precluded  the  possibility  of  design  —  but  to-night 
the  Wallencamp  mind  had  evidently  aimed  at  some  great 
system  of  conventionality,  and  had  been  eminently 
successful  in  evolving  a  plan. 

The  callers  were  young  men  exclusively  —  the  native 
youth  of  Wallencamp.  Their  blowzy,  well  favored  faces 
which  ever  afterward  appeared  to  beam  with  good  nature, 
to-night  expressed  a  sense  of  some  grave  affliction 
heroically  to  be  endured. 

Their  best  clothes,  it  was  obvious,  had  been  purchased 
by  them,  "ready  made,"  and  had  been  designed, 
originally,  for  the  sons  of  a  less  stalwart  community. 

The  young  men  were  especially  pinched  as  to  their 
expansive  chests,  the  broad-cloth  coming  much  too  short 
at  this  point,  and  shrugging  up  oddly  enough  at  the 
shoulders,  while  the  phenomenally  slick  arrangement 
of  their  hair  was  calculated  to  produce  a  depressing  effect 
on  the  mind  of  the  observer. 

As  they  came  in  one  by  one,  in  a  matter  of  fact  way, 
?tnd  Grandma  Spicer  announced  hopefully  to  each  in 
turn  —  "  and  this  is  our  teacher  ! "  they  accepted  the  fact 
with  no  more  flattering  sign  than  that  of  a  dumb  and 
helpless  resignation  to  the  inevitable.  They  seated 
themselves  about  the  room  in  punctilious  order,  assuming 
positions  painfully  suggestive  of  a  conscientious  disregard 
for  ease,  and  seemed  to  draw  some  silent  support  and 
sympathy  out  of  their  hats,  which  they  caressed  with 
lingering  affection,  touching  to  behold. 


48  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Grandma  beckoned  me  aside  into  the  pantry  which 
immediately  adjoined  the  kitchen,  and  informed  me 
in  one  of  her  reverberating  whispers,  that  I  "  must  n  t 
mind  the  boys  being  slicked  up,  for  they'd  sorter  dropped  in 
to  make  my  acquaintance,  and,  if  we  wanted  the  pop  corn, 
it  was  in  a  bag  down  under  where  the  almanac  hung, 
to  the  furthest  corner  of  the  wood-box." 

I  pondered  these  mysterious  injunctions  in  silence  and 
realizing  the  fact  that  the  Wallencamp  beaux  had  appeared 
in  a  body  for  the  express  purpose  of  making  my 
acquaintance,  I  essayed  to  show  my  appreciation  of  this 
amiable  design  by  an  attempt  to  engage  them  in 
conversation. 

My  various  efforts  in  this  line  proved  alike  futile, 
and  they  seemed  but  to  grow  impressed  with  a  deeper 
sense  of  misery. 

I  had  a  vague  intention  of  going  in  search  of  the 
pop-corn,  when,  to  my  sudden  dismay,  Grandma  Spicer 
and  Abagail,  who  had  been  noiselessly  clearing  off  the 
table,  emerged  from  a  brief  consultation  in  the  pantry, 
bearing  with  them  a  lighted  candle,  and  having  given 
Grandpa  Spicer  a  nod  of  unmistakable  force  and  signifi 
cance,  disappeared  through  the  door  which  led  into  that 
indefinite  extension  of  the  ark,  beyond. 

But  Grandpa  Spicer  remained  wilfully  indifferent  to 
these  broadly  insinuating  tactics.  He  fancied,  poor, 
deluded  old  man,  that  here  was  a  choice  opportunity  to 
tell  a  tale  of  the  seas  after  a  fashion  dear  to  his  own 
heart,  unshackled  by  the  restraints  of  family  surveillance. 
A  singularly  child-like  and  unapprehensive  smile 
played  across  his  features.  He  drew  his  chair  up  closer 
to  the  stove  and  began :  "Jest  after  I  was  a  roundin* 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  49 

Cape  Horn  the  fourth  time,  I  believe,  —  yis,  yis,  Le'me 
see  —  twenty  times  I  've  rounded  the  Horn,  wall,  this  ere 
—  I  recken,  was  somewhere  nigh  about  the  fourth  time." 

Scarcely  had  Grandpa  arranged  the  merest  pre 
liminaries  of  his  tale  when  ominous  footsteps  were  heard 
returning  along  the  way  whither  Grandma  and  Abagnil 
had  so  recently  departed,  and  he  was  interrupted  by 
a  strangely  calm  though  authoritative  voice  from  behind 
the  door,  "Pa  !  " 

"Wall,  wall,  ma!  what  ye  want,  ma?"  exclaimed 
Grandpa,  turning  his  head  aside,  with  a  slight  shade 
of  annoyance  on  his  face. 

No  answer  immediately  forthcoming,  that  wofully 
illusory  smile  returned  again  to  his  features.  He  moved 
still  nearer  to  the  stove,  and  was  just  at  the  point 
of  resuming  the  thread  of  his  narrative  when  — 

"  Hoggarty  Spicer ! "  came  from  behind  the  door 
in  accents  still  calm,  indeed,  but  freighted  with  a  sig 
nificance  which  words  have  faint  power  to  express. 

"  Yis,  yis,  ma  !  I'm  a  coming,  ma  !  "  replied  Grandpa, 
rising  hastily  and  shuffling  toward  the  door,  "I'm  a 
coming,  ma  !  I'm  a  coming  !  " 

The  door  opened  wide  enough  to  receive  him  and  then 
closed  upon  him  in  all  his  ignominy. 

The  sound  of  his  voice  in  irate  expostulation  mingled 
with  the  steady  flow  of  those  serener  tones  grew  gradually 
faint  in  the  distance,  and  I  was  left  alone  with  the  sepul 
chral  group  of  young  men. 

They  arose,  still  maintaining  the  weighty  aspect  of 
those  elected  to  honor,  and  abruptly  opened  their  lips  ic 
song. 


50  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

There  was  no  repression  now ;  the  Ark  fairly  rang  with 
the  sonorous  strains  of  that  wild  Jubilate. 
They  sang  : 

"  Light  in  the  darkness,  sailor. 

Day  is  at  hand. 
See  o'er  the  foaming  billows, 

Fair  Haven  stands." 

Their  voices  rolling  in  at  the  chorus  with  the  resistless 
sweep  of  the  ocean-waves  : 

«  Pull  for  the  shore,  sailor, 

Pull  for  the  shore. 
Heed  not  the  rolling  waves 

But  bend  to  the  oar." 

and  with  a  final  "  Pull  for  the  shore,"  that  sent  that 
imaginary  life-boat  bounding  high  and  dry  on  to  the  strand 
at  the  hands  of  its  impulsive  crew. 

Then,  they  sat  down  and  wiped  the  perspiration  from 
their  faces  which  had  become  transfigured  with  a  sudden 
•zest  and  radiance. 

I  recovered  myself  sufficiently  to  express  a  bewildered 
sense  of  pleasure  and  gratitude. 

"Do  you  sing,  teacher  ?"  asked  Noah  Alden,  a  round 
faced  youth  with  an  irrepressible  fund  of  mirth  in  his 
eyes,  who  had  broken  in  on  the  former  silence  with  an  un 
guarded  little  snicker. 

Noel  N orris,  he  of  the  dignified  countenance  and  spade 
shaped  beard,  had  faintly  and  helplessly  echoed  that 
snicker,  and  now  repeated  Noah 's  words  : 

"  Ahem,  certainly  —  Do  you  sing,  teacher  ?  Do 
you,  now  ?  Do  you  sing,  you  know  ?  " 

I  had  some  new  and  seriously  awakened  doubts  on  the 
subject.  However,  the  degree  of  attainment  not  being 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  51 

brought  into  question,   I  felt  that  I  could  answer  in 

the  affirmative. 

The  countenances  of  the  group  brightened  still  more 
perceptibly. 

"And  do  you  sing  No.  2  ?  "  enquired  Noah,  eagerly. 

I  tried  to  assume,  in  reply,  a  tone  of  equal  animation. 

"Is  it  something  new?  I  don't  think  I've  heard  of  it, 
before." 

"Why,  it's  the  Moody  and  Sankey  hymn  book  1" 
exclaimed  Noah,  looking  suddenly  blank. 

I  strove  to  soften  the  effect  of  this  blow  by  a  lively 
show  of  recognition. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  perfectly  now.  It's  "  Hold  the 
Fort,"  "  Ring  the  Bells  of  Heaven,  "  and  all  those  songs, 
is  n't  it?" 

"  'Hold  the  Fort '  's  in  No.  i,"  said  George  Olver,  a 
new  speaker,  with  beautiful,  brave,  brown  eyes  and  a 
soldierly  bearing. 

He  spoke,  correcting  me,  but  with  the  tender  con 
sideration  which  a  father  might  display  toward  an 
unenlightened  child. 

"There's  three  numbers,"  said  Noah  Alden>"and  you 
ought  to  learn  to  sing  'em,  teacher.  We  sing  'em  all  the 
time,  down  here." 

"You  are  fond  of  singing?"  I  questioned. 
Dick  Peterson,  of   lithe  figure  and  straight  black  hair, 
9.  denizen  of  the  Indian  encampment,  started  up,  flushing 
through  his  dark  skin. 

"  I  lul-love  it !  "  he  said. 

Dick  Peterson  sang  with  the  most  exquisite  smooth 
ness,  but  stumbled  a  little  in  prosaical  conversation. 

A  silent  Norwegian,       Lars  Thorjon,   who    had    sat 


63  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

gazing  at  me  and  smiling,  flushed  also  at  the  words,  and 
murmured  something  rapturous  with  a  foreign  accent. 

"  Yes,  we're  rather  fond  of  singing."      I  heard  George 
Giver's  resolute  tones. 
Noah  Alden  gave  a  low,  expressive  whistle. 

" I  like  it,  certainly,  ahem !  /do.  / like  it,  you 
know,"  said  Noel  Norris. 

'•  \Ve  have  a  singin*  time  generally  every  night,"  said 
Noah.  "  Sometimes  Abagail  plays  for  us  on  her  music, 
and  sometimes  we  go  down  to  Ethers.  Abagail 's 
melodeon  is  very  soft  and  purty,  but  George,  he  e,  he 
likes  the  tone  of  Ethel's  organ  best,  I  reckon.  Eh, 
George  ?  " 

Noah       winked    facetiously    at    George     Olver,    who 
reddened  deeply  but  did  not  cast  down  his  eyes. 

"  If  I  was  you,  George,"  continued  the  merciless 
Noah,  — "I'd  lay  for  that  Turner.  Gad,  I'd  set  a 
match  to  his  hair.  I'd  nettle  him  !  " 

"I'd  show  him  his  p-p-place!"  stammered  Dick 
Peterson,  with  considerable  warmth. 

"/  would,  certainly,"  reiterated  the  automatic  Noel. 
"  I'd  show  him  his  place,  you  know ;  /  would,  certainly." 

The  big  veins  swollen  out  in  George  Giver's  forehead 
knitted  themselves  there  for  an  instant,  sternly. 

"  I  don't  interfere  with  no  man's  business,"  said 
he.  "  So  long  as  he  means  honorable  and  car'ies 
out  his  actions  fa'r  and  squar'  I  don't  begrudge 
him  his  chance  nor  meddle  in  his  afla'rs." 

Our  attention  was  suddenly  diverted  from  this  subject, 
which  was  evidently  growing  to  be  a  painful  one  to 
one  of  the  company,  by  the  sound  of  a  violin  played  with 
singular  skill  and  correctness  just  outside  the  window. 


CATE    COD    FOLKS.  63 

"Glory,  there's  Ben!"  exclaimed  Noah,  bounding 
ecstatically  from  his  chair. 

"  Come  in,  Ben,  come  in  ? "  he  shouted,  "  and 
show  us  what  can  be  got  out  of  a  fiddle  !  " 

"  Let  him  alone,"  said  George  Giver,  but  the  group 
had  already  vanished  through  the  door,  Noel  following 
mechanically. 

"That's Ben.  Cradlebow  fiddlin'  out  thar,"  George 
Olvcr  explained  to  me.  "  I  don't  want  'em  to  skccr  him 
o(T.  for  it  ain't  every  night  Ben  takes  kindly  to  his  fiddle. 
There's  times  he  won't  touch  it  for  days  and  days. 
Talkin'  al>out  Ben's  fiddlin' — I  suppose  it's  true  — 
there  was  some  fellers  out  from  Boston  happened  to  hear 
him  playin*  one  night,  up  to  Sandwich  te-own.  and  they 
offered  him  a  hundred  and  fifty  a  month —  I  reckon  that's 
true  —  to  go  along  with  some  fiddlin'  company  thar 
to  Boston,  and  he'd  a  got  more  if  he'd  stuck  to  it, 
but  Ben,  he  come  driftin'  back  in  the  course  of  a  week 
or  two.  I  don't  blame  him.  He  said  he  was  sick  on't. 

I  tell  you  how  'tis,  teacher.  Folks  that  lives  along  this 
shore  are  allus  talkin'  more'n  any  other  sort  of  folks  about 
going  off,  and  complainin'  about  the  hard  livin',  and 
cussin'  the  stingy  sile,  but  thar's  suthin'  about  it  sorter 
holt's  to  'em.  They  allus  come  a  driftin'  back  in  some 
shape  or  other,  in  the  course  of  a  year  or  two  at 
the  farderest." 

The  door  was  thrown  wide  open  and  my  recreant 
guests  reappeared  half  dragging,  half  pushing  before  them 
a  matchless  Adonis  in  glazed  tarpaulin  trousers  and  a 
coarse  sailor's  blouse. 

I  recognized  at  once  in  the  perfect  physical  beauty 
of  the  eccentric  fiddler  only  a  reproduction  in  a 


64  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

larger  form,  of  that  sadly  depraved  young  cherub  who 
had  danced  before  me  in  ghostly  habiliments  on  the  way 
to  school.  It  was  the  imp's  older  brother. 

"  Here's  Ben,  teacher  !  "  cried  Noah,  ' '  he  would  n't 
come  in  'cause  he  was  n't  slicked  up ;  but  I  tell  him  clo's 
don't  make  much  difference  with  a  humly  dog,  anyway. 
Come  along,  Ben,  and  put  them  blushes  in  your  pocket 
to  keep  yer  hands  warm  in  cold  weather.  Teacher,  this 
is  our  champion  fiddler,  inventor,  whale-fisher,  cran 
berry  picker,  and  potato  bugger,  —  Benney  Leonard 
Cradlebow  ! " 

The  youth  of  the  bird-like  name  dealt  his  tormentor  a 
hearty  though  affectionate  cuff  on  the  ears,  and  being 
thus  suddenly  thrust  forward,  he  doffed  his  broad 
souwester,  took  the  hand  I  held  out  to  him,  and,  stooping 
down,  kissed  me,  quite  in  a  simple  and  audible 
manner,  on  the  cheek. 

It  was  done  with  such  gentle,  serious  embarassment, 
and  Benney  Leonard  Cradlebow  was  so  boyish  and 
quaint  looking,  withal,  that  I  felt  not  the  slightest  in 
clination  to  blush,  but  I  heard  Noah 's  saucy  giggle. 

4<Gad!  "  said  he,  "hear  the  old  women  talk  about 
Ben's  being  bashful  and  not  knowin'  how  to  act  with  the 
girls  !  Now  I  call  them  purty  easy  manners,  eh,  Noel  ? 
what  do  you  think,  Noel  ?  " 

"  Ahem,  certainly, — "  responded  Noel,  smiling  in  vague 
sympathy  with  the  laughing  group.  "/  call  them  so, — 
certainly, — /do." 

Only  George  Olver  turned  a  sober,  reassuring  face  to 
the  blushing  Cradlebow. 

"  Give  us  a  tune,  Bennie,"  said  he.  "  Lord,  /  'd  laugfc 
if  I  could  get  the  music  out  o'  them  strings  that  you  can." 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  56 

The  Cradlebow  sat  down,  drew  his  bow  across  the 
strings  with  a  full,  quivering,  premonitory  touch,  and, 
straightway,  the  fiddle  began  to  talk  to  him  as  though  they 
two  were  friends  alone  together  in  the  room.  How  it 
played  for  him, — the  fiddle — as  though  it  were  morning. 
How  it  shouted,  laughed,  ran  with  him  in  a  world  of  sun 
shine  and  tossing  blossoms  ! 

How  it  hoped  for  him,  swelling  out  in  grander  strains, 
wild  with  exultation,  tremulous  with  passion  ! 

How  it  mourned  for  him,  with  dying,  sweet  despair,  un 
til  one  almost  saw  the  night  fall  on  the  water  and  the  lone 
sea-birds  flying,  and  heard  the  desolate  shrieking  of  the 
wind  along  the  shore. 

I  heard  a  real  sob  near  me,  and  looking  up  saw  the  tears 
rolling  down  Noah's  rosy  cheeks. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  a  simple  melody, — I  think  it  was 
the  "  Sweet  Bye  and  Bye  " — that  the  player  stopped  and 
turned  suddenly  pale. 

"That  was  a  new  string,  too!"  he  said,  "and  only 
half  tight."  Then  he  blushed  violently,  seeking  to  hide 
the  irritation  of  his  tone  under  a  careless  laugh. 

"  Oh,  I  do  n't  mind  the  string,"  he  went  on ;  "that 's 
easy  mended,  but  I  happened  to  think  it 's  a  bad  sign, 
that's  all— to  break  down  so  in  the  middle  of  a  tune." 

"  Dam  the  sign  !"  exclaimed  Noah,  "  I  wanted  to  hear 
that  played  through." 

"  You  remember  Willie  Reene  ?  "  Benney  turned  his 
eyes,  still  unnaturally  bright  with  excitement,  towards 
George  Olver. 

"  Aye,  I  remember,"  said  George  Olver.  "  I  was  goin' 
mackerelin'  with  ye  myself  that  time,  only  I  wrinched  my 
wrist  so." 


id  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

"  We  was  out  on  deck  together,"  Benney  continued. 
"I  was  lying  down, — it  was  a  strange,  warmish  sort  of  a 
night — and  Willie  played.  He  played  a  long  time.  It 
was  just  in  the  middle  of  a  tune  he  was  playin*  that  —  snap  ! 
the  string  went  in  just  that  way.  1  never  thought  anything 
about  it.  I  tried  to  laugh  him  out  of  it  and  he  laughed, 
but  says  he  '  It 's  a  bad  sign,  Ben.  Likely  it  had  nothin' 
to  do  with  it,  but  I  think  of  it  sometimes,  and  then  it 
seems  as  though  I  must  go  to  that  same  place  and  look 
for  him  again.  I  never  done  anything  harder  than  when 
I  left  him  there." 

41  You  done  the  best  you  could,"  George  Olver  ans 
wered  stoutly.  "  They  said  you  dove  for  him  long  and 
long  after  it  was  n't  no  use." 

"  No  use,"  Benney  repeated,  shaking  his  head  sadly 
and  abstractly,  "  no  use." 

"  There  's  naught  in  a  sign,  anyway,"  George  Olver  af 
firmed. 

"  They  don't  worry  me  much,  you  can  depend  —  " 
the  player  looked  up  at  length  with  a  singularly  bright 
and  gentle  smile.  "But  Grannie,  she  believes  in 
'em,  truly.  She's  got  a  sign  in  a  dream  for  everything, 
Grannie  has,  so  I  hear  lots  of  it." 

Noah  Alden  had  quite  recovered  by  this  time,  from  his 
tearfully  sentimental  mood. 

"  Now  it's  strange,"  he  began  with  an  air  of  mysterious 
solemnity,  "there  was  three  nights  runnin'  that  I  dreamed 
I  found  a  thousand  dollar  bill  to  the  right  hand  corner  of 
my  bury  drawer,  and  every  morn  in'  when  I  woke  up  and 
went  to  git  it  —  it  wa'n't  there,  so  I  know  the  rats  must  a 
carrried  it  off  in  the  night,  and  a  pretty  shabby 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  57 

trick  to  play  on  a  feller,  too  —  but  then  you  can't 
blame  the  poor  devils  for  wantin'  a  little  pin  money. 

"  Did  I  ever  tell  ye  how  Uncle  Randal  tried  to  clear 
'em  out  o'  i  is  barn?  Wall,  he  traded  with  Sim  Peck  up 
to  West  Wallen,  a  peck  o'  clams  for  an  old  cat 
o1  hisn,  that  was  about  the  size,  Uncle  Randal  said, 
of  a  ycarlin'  calf,  and  he  turned  her  into  the  barn  along  o' 
the  rats,  and  shut  the  door,  and  the  next  mornin',  he 
went  out  and  there  was  a  few  little  pieces  of  fur  flyin' 
around  and  devil  a — devil  acat !  Uncle  Randal  said  !  " 

"  You're  the  D  —  d  —  d  —  you're  it,  yourself,  Noah  ! " 
stammered  Dick  Peterson. 

"You'd  better  look  out,  Dick, "Noah  giggled,  "'we're 
all  a  little  nearer'n  second  cousins  down  here  to 
Wallencamp.  Dick's  mother  didn't  use  to  let  him  go  to 
school  much,  teacher,"  Noah  added,  turning  to  me ; 
"it  used  to  wear  him  out  luggin'  home  his  *  Reward 
o'  merit  cards.' " 

"  I  n-n-ncver  got  any,"  Dick  retorted,  blushing  des 
perately  through  his  dark  skin,  "  n-n-nor  you  either  !  " 

"I  guess  that's  so,  Noah,"  said  Noel  Norvis,  quite 
gravely,  "  1  rather  think  that's  so,  Noah  —  ahem,  1  guess 
it  is." 

When  my  visitors  rose  to  depart  they  formed  in 
line,  with  George  Giver  and  Benney  at  the  head. 

George  Olver  was  the  spokesman  of  the  group.  He 
offered  me  his  strong  brown  hand  in  hearty  corrobora- 
tion  of  his  words,  "  We  're  a  roughish  sort  of  a  set  down 
here,  teacher,  but  whenever  you  want  friends  you  '11 
know  right  whar  to  rind  us;  we  mean  that  straight 
through  and  fair  and  kindly. 


58  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

I  thanked  him,  and  then  Benney  gave  me  his  hand,  but 
did  not  kiss  me,  in  departing. 

Each  member  of  the  phalanx  gave  me  his  hand  in 
turn,  with  a  hearty  "  Good  night,"  and  so  they  passed 
out.  The  door  closed  behind  them.  I  meditated  a  space 
and  when  I  looked  up  there  was  Noel  Norris's  pale  face 
peering  into  the  room. 

"  Ahem  —  Miss  Hungerford  1 "  he  murmured,  in  awful 
accents  :  "  Miss  Hungerford  !  " 

Could  it  be  some  telegram  from  my  home  thus 
mysteriously  arrived  ?  The  thought  flashed  through  my 
mind  before  reason  could  act. 

"What  is  it?"  I  gasped,  hastening  to  meet  the  in 
former. 

Noel  N orris  handed  me  a  picture;  it  was  a  small 
daguerrotype  in  which  the  mild  and  beneficent  features  of 
that  worthy  being  himself  shone  above  his  own  unmistak 
able  spade-shaped  whiskers. 

"Would  you  like  it,  Miss  Hungerford?"  said  he,  still 
with  the  same  deeply  impressive  air,  "  would  you,  now, 
really,  Miss  Hungerford  ?  would  you  like  it  now  ?  " 

"  Why,  certainly,"  I  exclaimed,  with  intense  relief,  and 
before  I  could  fully  appreciate  the  situation.  Noel  N  orris 
cast  a  cautious  glance  about  him,  leaned  his  head  forward, 
and  whispered  hoarsely,  "  I've  got  some  more,  at  home  — 
ahem  I  I've  got  six,  Miss  Hungerford.  Mother  wants  to 
keep  two  and  she's  promised  Aunt  Marcia  one ;  but  you 
can  have  one  any  time,  Miss  Hungerford.  Ahem  !  ahem  ! 
^ou  can,  you  know." 

"  Thank  you,"  I  murmured,  while  it  seemed  as  though 
my  faculties  were  desperately  searching  for  light  on 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  59 

a  hitherto  unsounded  sea.  "I  think  this  will  do  for 
the  present." 

Noel  nodded  his  head  with  a  grave  good  night  and 
disappeared. 

Meanwhile,  Grandma  and  Grandpa  Spicer  and 
Abagail  were  absorbing  this  last  impressive  scene  as  they 
slowly  emerged  from  that  unknown  quarter  of  the  ark 
whither  they  had  retreated. 

Grandpa  looked  at  me  with  a  peculiar  twinkle  in  his 
eye. 

"  So  Noel  came  back  to  give  ye  his  picter,  eh,  teacher?  " 
said  he. 

I  returned  Grandpa's  look  with  cheerful  and  unoffended 
alacrity ;  but  Grandma  interrupted,  "  Thar,  now,  pa  I 
Thar,  now !  We  must  n't  enquire  into  everything  we 
happen  to  get  a  little  wind  on.  Ye  see,  teacher,"  she 
continued,  in  tones  of  the  broadest  gentleness,  "  we  knew 
they'd  be  sorter  bashful  gettin'  acquainted,  the  first  night, 
and  so  we  thought  it  'ud  be  easier  for  'em  if  we  should 
leave  'em  to  themselves,  and  we  knew  you  was  so  —  we 
knew  you  would  n't  care." 

As  Grandpa  resumed  his  accustomed  seat  by  the  fire, 
an  expansive  grin  still  lingered  on  his  features. 

"  Ah,  he's  a  queer  fellow, that  Noel,"  said  he,  "  but  he's 
quick  to  larn,  they  say,  larns  like  a  book.  I'll  tell  ye 
what's  the  trouble  with  him,  teacher.  He's  been  tied  too 
long  to  his  mother's  apron  strings.  He  don't  know 
no  more  about  the  world  than  a  chicken.  He's  thirty 
odd,  now,  I  guess,  and  I  reckon  he  ain't  never  been 
further  away  from  the  beach  than  Sandwich  te-own  !  " 

"  I  don't  know  as  we'd  ought  to  blame  him,"  said 
Grandma  Spicer,  "though  to  be  sure,  Noel's  more  quiet 


60  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

natured  than  some  that  likes  to  be  wanderin*  off  as  young 
folks  will,  generally;  but  he  was  the  only  one  they 
had,  and  Noel's  allus  been  a  good  boy.  Pa  and  me,  when 
we  go  to  meetin'  we  most  allus  come  acrost  him  a  carryin' 
his  Sunday  School  book  under  his  arm,  and  may  be," 
concluded  Grandma  Spicer,  "  there'll  be  a  time  when 
we  shall  more  on  us  wish  that  thar  wan't  nothin'  wuss 
could  be  brought  against  us  than  being  innocent." 

We  pondered  these  suggestive  words  a  few  moments  in 
silence  ;  then  Grandpa  Spicer  boldly  interposed : 

"That  Ben  Cradlebow — he's  a  handsome  boy, 
teacher.  Ah,  he's  a  handsome  one.  They're  a  hand 
some  family,  them  Cradlebows. 

"There's  the  old  grannie,  Aunt  Susan  they  call 
her.  Lord,  she's  got  a  head  on  her  like  a  picter  !  They're 
high  bred,  too,  I  reckon.  To  begin  with,  why,  Godfrey  — 
Godfrey  Cradlebow — that's  B  en's  father,  teacher ;  he's 
college  bred,  I  suppose  !  He  had  a  rich  uncle  thar,  that 
took  a  shine  to  him  and  kind  o'  'dopted  him  and 
eddicated  him,  but  Godfrey,  he  took  a  shine  to  a  poor 
girl  thar,  dreadfully  handsome,  she  was,  but  yet  they 
was  both  on  em  young,  and  it  did  not  suit  the  old  uncle, 
so  he  left  him  to  shift  for  himself.  And  Godfrey,  he  tried 
one  thing  and  another,  and  never  held  long  to  nothin',  I 
guess,  and  finally  he  drifted  down  this  way  and  here  he 
stuck. 

"  He's  got  a  good  head,  Godfrey  has,  but  he  was  n't 
never  extry  fond  o'  work,  I  reckon,  and  he's  growed 
dreadful  rheumatiky  lame,  and  he  has  his  sprees, 
occasionally. 

"  Liddy,  that's  his  wife,  teacher,  she  was  full  good 
enough  for  him  when  ye  come  to  the  pint.  Oh,  she's  a 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  «1 

smart  wife  and  she's  had  a  hard  row,  so  many  children 
and  nothin'  to  do  with,  as  ye  might  say.  Why,  they've 
had  thirteen  children,  ain't  they,  ma? 

"  Le'me  see  —  four  on  'em  dead,  and  three  on  'em  — 
no  !  four  on  'em  married,  and  three  on  'em  —  Howis't, 
ma?" 

Grandma  then  took  up  the  tangled  thread  of  the 
old  captain's  discourse,  with  calm  disdain,  and  proceeded 
to  disclose  an  appalling  array  of  statistics  not  only  in 
regard  to  the  Cradlebow  family,  but  including  generations 
of  men  hitherto  unknown  and  remote. 

When  I  signified  a  desire  to  retire  for  the  night, 
Abagail  informed  me  with  a  brisk  and  hopeful  air,  that 
my  room  was  "  all  ready  now." 

She  led  the  way  up  a  short  and  narrow  little  staircase 
into  a  low  garret  where,  amid  a  dark  confusion  of  objects, 
I  was  forcibly  reminded  of  the  rows  of  hard  substances 
suspended  from  the  rafters. 

Turning  to  the  left,  the  rays  of  the  candle  revealed 
a  small  red  door  framed  in  among  the  unpainted  boards  of 
the  wall. 

There,  Abagail  bade  me  a  flippant  and  musical  good 
night,  and  I  entered  my  room,  alone. 

Within,  the  contrast  between  the  door  and  the  brown 
walls  was  still  more  effectively  drawn. 

The  bed,  neatly  made,  stood  in  a  niche  where  the  roof 
slanted  perceptibly  downward,  so  that  the  sweetly  uncon 
scious  sleeper  (as  I  found  afterwards)  perchance  tossing 
his  head  upward,  in  a  dream,  was  doomed  to  bring 
that  member  into  resounding  contact  with  the  ceiling. 

I  judged  something  of  the  restless  proclivities  of 
the  last  occupants  of  the  room  by  the  amount  of  plastering 


63  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

of  which  this  particular  section  had  been  deprived. 
In  this,  and  in  other  places  where  it  had  fallen,  it  had 
been  collected  and  tacked  up  again  to  the  ceiling  in  cloth 
bags  which  presented  a  graceful  and  drooping,  though  at 
first  sight,  rather  enigmatical  appearance. 

The  chimney  ran  through  the  room  forming  a  sort 
of  unique  centrepiece. 

This  and  more  I  accepted,  wearily,  and  then  sank 
down  by  the  bed  and  cried.  Outside,  before  the  one 
small  window,  stood  a  peach  tree.  Afterward,  when 
this  had  grown  to  be  a  very  dear  little  room  to  me, 
I  looked  out  cheerfully  through  its  branches,  warm  with 
sunshine,  and  fragrant  with  bloom;  but  now  it  was 
bare  and  ghostly,  and,  as  the  wind  blew,  one  forlorn  twig 
trailed  back  and  forth  across  the  window. 

For  an  hour  or  more  after  my  head  touched  the 
pillow,  I  lay  awake  listening  to  the  unaccustomed  sound 
of  the  surf  and  those  skeleton  fingers  tapping  at  the  pane. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  TURKEY  MOGUL  ARRIVES. 

STUDIED  Ethel  in  school,  the  next  day,  with 
special  interest.  She  was  a  girl  of  seventeen  or 
eighteen,  with  the  stately,  substantial  presence 
of  one  of  nature's  own  goddesses.  She  had  a  fresh,  con 
stant  color  in  her  cheeks,  a  pure,  low  forehead,  and  eyes 
that  were  clear,  gray,  and  large,  but  with  a  strangely  ap 
pealing,  helplessly  animal  expression  hi  them,  I  fancied, 
as  she  lifted  them,  oft  times,  to  mine.  She  was  distin 
guished  among  my  young  disciples  by  the  faithful,  though 
evidently  labored  and  wearisome  attention,  she  gave  to 
her  books. 

Her  glance,  bent  on  some  small  wretch  who  was  misbe 
having,  had  a  peculiarly  significant  force.  The  little  ones 
all  seemed  to  love  her  and  to  stand  rather  in  awe  of  her  too. 

Entering  the  school-room  in  the  morning,  she  dis 
covered  a  network  of  strings,  which  one  Lemuel  Biddy  had 
artfully  laid  between  the  desks,  intending  thereby  to  way 
lay  and  prostrate  his  human  victim,  and  stooping  down, 
she  boxed  the  miscreant,  not  cruelly,  but  effectively,  on 
the  ears.  I  was  surprised  to  see  that  the  boy  seemed  to 
regard  this  infliction  as  the  simple  and  natural  award  of 
justice,  bowed  his  head  and  wept  penitently,  and  was 
subdued  for  sometime  afterward. 

To  me,  whose  earliest  years  had  been  guided  and 


64  GATE  COD  FOLKS. 

illuminated  on  the  principle  that  reason  and  persuasion 
alone  are  to  be  used  in  the  training  of  the  tender  twig, 
this  little  occurrence  afforded  food  for  serious  wonder  and 
reflection. 

]  doubted  if  the  logic  of  the  sages  or  the  wooing  of  the 
celestial  seraphim  would  have  wrought  with  such  con 
vincing  power  on  the  min  1  and  ears  of  Lemuel  Middy. 

If  F.thel  perchance,  after  painfully  protracted  exertions, 
succeeded  in  working  out  some  simple  problem  in  arith 
metic,  her  slate  containing  the  solution  was  freely  handed 
about  amo1  g  her  unaspiring  comrades,  so  that  I  judged 
her  to  be  "  weakly  generous  "  as  well  as  "  plodding,"  — 
qualities  not  of  a  high  order,  I  esteemed,  yet  by  no 
means  insuperable  barriers  to  friendship  when  found  to 
enter  more  or  less  largely  into  the  composition  of  one's 
friends. 

There  was  something  in  my  novel  relation  to  the  girl  as 
her  teacher  peculiarly  fascinating  to  me.  At  recess,  she 
remained  in  her  seat  and  kept  quietly  at  her  work. 

I  went  down  and  stood  over  her.  "  Can  1  help  you, 
my  dear?  "  I  said. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  pedantic  or  obtrusively 
condescending  quality  of  those  words,  Ethel  seemed  to 
find  nothing  distasteful  in  them.  She  looked  up  with 
a  "Thank  you,"  and  a  pleased,  trustful  face  like  a  child's. 
"  I  can't  do  this  one,"  said  she.  "  I've  finished  the  rest, 
but  this  would  n't  come  right,  somehow." 

It  was  a  sum  in  simple  addition.  I  could  not  help 
a  feeling  of  deep  surprise  and  commiseration  that  one  of 
Kthel's  age  should  have  stumbled  at  it  at  all,  but  I  essayed 
to  examine  it  very  closely  and  worked  it  out  for  her  as 
slowly  as  possible.  "  Do  you  see  your  mistake  ?  "  i  said. 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  65 

She  blushed  painfully.  The  tears  almost  stood  in  her 
eyes. 

"  Yes,  and  T  knew  yonM  have  to  find  out  how  dull 
I  was."  she  said,  "but  1  dreaded  it.  When  Miss  Taite 
was  here,  mother  was  sick  and  I  did  n'l  go  lo  school 
at  all,  and  Miss  Taite  took  me  for  a  friend  ;  and  1  told 
mother  I'd  most  rather  not  go  to  school  to  you,  for  Miss 
Taite  said  you'd  be  a  real  friend  and  I  knew  you 
would  n't  want  me  when  you  found  how  dull  I  was." 

I  looked  at  the  girl  and  a  bright,  hesitating  smile  woke 
in  her  face. 

"  Do  you  know,  Ethel,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  choose  my 
friends  for  their  mental  qualifications  —  for  what  they 
know;  I  select  them  just  as  people  do  horses — by  their 
teeth.  Let  me  see  yours." 

Ethel  laughed  most  musically,  thus  disclosing  two  bril 
liant  rows  of  ivories.  I  had  noticed  them  before. 

II  You'll  do  !  "  I  exclaimed,  lightly.  "  I  take  you  into  my 
heart  of  hearts.     Now  what  is  your  standard  of  choice? 
What   charming  characteristic    do  you  first  require   in 
a  friend,  Ethel?" 

"  Oh ! "  said  she,  gasping  a  little  and  speaking  very 
slowly,  "I  —  don't  —  know.  I  —  don't  —  think  —  I've 
got  any." 

"  Don't  be  afraid  lest  you  shall  guess  something  that  I 
have  not,  my  clear,"  I  said,  "you  can  hardly  go  astray. 
Begin  with  modesty,  if  you  please,  truly  the  chief  of 
virtues." 

Ethel  caught  quickly  the  meaning  in  my  tone  and 
answered  with  a  low  ripple  of  laughter.  When  I  urged 
her,  she  grew  gravely  embarassed. 

*'  Well,"  said  she,  "  I  don't  think  I  should  want  any- 

5 


66  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

body  that  I  thought  I  could  n't  ever  help  them  any,  you 
know.  That  would  n't  ever  need  me,  I  mean,  and  I 
know, "  she  went  on  more  hastily,  "  it  seems  funny  to 
say  that  to  you  because  it  seems  as  though  there  was  n't 
anything  that  I  could  ever  do  for  you  —  because  you  — 
you  seem  —  not  to  need  anybody — but  I  didn't  know 
but  sometime  —  there  might  be  something  —  I  thought  — 
maybe  —  sometime." 

Ethel  paused  and  looked  up  at  me  with  that  pitifully 
beseeching  expression  in  her  eyes. 

"  Oh  yes,"  I  answered,  still  carelessly,  "  no  doubt 
I  shall  be  a  great  burden  to  you  in  time.  But  you  do 
help  me,  now,  dear,  by  your  conduct  in  school.  You 
helped  me  this  morning  when  you  boxed  Lemuel  Biddy's 
ears.  I  shall  have  to  take  boxing  lessons  of  you." 

"  You  be  the  scholar,"  Ethel  answered  quickly,  her  lips 
parting  again  with  a  merry  outburst  of  laughter. 

"  Wretch  !  "  said  I,  well  pleased  but  affecting  a  tone  of 
deep  severity,  "  You  must  not  be  saucy  to  your  teacher  1 
I  shall  keep  you  in  the  rest  of  your  recebs  for  that. 

"  Do  you  like  to  study,  Ethel?  "  I  added,  presently. 

"  No-o,"  said  she,  much  abashed  at  the  admission,  and 
yet  evidently  incapable  of  speaking  otherwise  than  accord 
ing  to  the  simple  dictates  of  her  conscience.  "  I  don't 
think  I  should  care  anything  about  it  if  it  did  n't 
make  you  so  dull  not  to.  I  mean,"  she  continued,  "  perhaps 
I  might  a  liked  it  if  I'd  been  to  school  right  along,  but  we 
never  did.  And  I  was  to  the  mills  up  to  Taunton.  I 
didn't  stay  long  there.  Then  mother  was  sick.  They 
don't  any  of  the  scholars  be  let  to  go  very  regular.  Some 
times  they're  wanted  to  work  out.  So  they  forget.  So 
they  don't  care  much,  I  think.  They  get  to  dreading  it 


CAPS  COD  FOLKS.  67 

I  wanted  to  tell  you  so  you  would  n't  think  it  so  much 
blame  —  our  bein'  so  backward." 

"  It  is  the  faithful  improvement  of  what  opportunities 
we  have,Ethel,"  I  began,  and  then  paused,  somewhat  con 
fused  by  the  throng  of  lively  reminiscences  which  suddenly 
crowded  my  mental  horoscope.  ''You  are  young  yet, 
my  dear,"  I  concluded  gravely,  with  a  resigned  sigh  for  my 
own  departed  youth,  "  you  can  make  up  for  lost  time.  It 
is  pleasant  to  give,  but  there  may  be  circumstances 
in  which  it  is  our  duty  imperatively,  to  receive.  You  must 
let  me  do  all  I  can  for  you  this  winter.  I  do  want  you  for 
a  friend,  but  I  would  rather  it  should  be  on  these  plainly 
implied  conditions." 

Ethel  had  been  studying  my  face,  thoughtfully,  with 
a  still  expression  of  wonder. 

"  I'll  try  to  learn,"  said  she,  slowly.  "  I'll  do  anything 
you  want  me  to." 

"  Do  you  like  to  read?  "  I  enquired,  in  a  brighter  tone. 

"  Stories?  "  said  Ethel,  a  sparkle  waking  in  her  eyes. 

"  Stories  mixed  with  other  things,"  I  insisted,  gently, 
and  was  then  compelled  to  wonder  how  many  of  those 
"  other  things  "  had  found  their  way  into  the  literary 
appointment  of  my  trunk. 

"I'll  try,"  said  Ethel. 

"  Come  to  the  Ark,  after  school,  and  look  over  the  books 
I  have.  We  will  talk  some  more  about  it  and  you  shall 
select  as  you  please,  or  I  will  select  for  you,  if  you  desire," 
I  said,  looking  at  Ethel  with  kindly  though  severe 
penetration. 

"  I'd  rather  you  would,"  said  Ethel,  obediently. 

To  inflict  this  particular  sort  of  patronage  was  a  delight 
fully  new  experience  for  me.  The  glaring  inconsistencies 


68  CATS  COD  FOLKS. 

which  confronted  me  at  every  turn  only  gave  a  heightened 
zest  to  the  pursuit. 

When  I  \vcnt  to  the  door  to  Mow  the  horn  I  felt  that 
Ethel  already  regarded  me  ns  her  patron,  guide  and  spiritual 
mentor,  and  I  was  seriously  resolved  to  fill  these  positions 
hopefully  for  her  and  with  credit  to  myself.  With  respect 
to  the  rest  of  my  flock,  I  felt  a  different  sort  of  interest  — 
the  wide  awake  concern  of  one  who  finds  himself  suddenly 
perched  on  the  back  of  a  mettlesome,  untried  steed. 

Any  one  member  of  that  benighted  corps,  taken  as  the 
subject  of  pruning  and  cultivating  effort,  would  have 
occupied,  I  believed,  the  faithful  labors  of  a  life  time. 
Considered  as  a  gloriously  rampant  mass,  the  aspect  of  the 
field  was  appalling. 

I  was  especially  impressed  with  this  view  of  the  case 
when  I  went  to  toot  them  in  from  those  free  and  reckless 
diversions  in  which  their  souls  expanded  and  their  bodies 
became  as  the  winged  creatures  of  the  earth. 

The  horn  was  still  an  object  of  terror  to  me,  though  ex 
perience  had  made  me  wise  enough  to  institute,  on  all 
occasions,  a  careful  preliminary  search  for  buttons. 

Its  blast,  freighted  with  baleful  meaning  to  the  ears 
of  sportive  innocence,  found  a  melancholy  echo  among 
the  deeper  woes  of  my  own  heart,  and,  if  it  chanced  to  be 
one  of  Aunt  Pucinda's  singing  days,  the  "  Dar'to  be  a  Dan- 
yell  !  Dar'  to  be  a  Dan -yell ! "  which  floated  across 
the  lane,  had  but  a  doubtfully  inspiriting  effect. 

I  felt,  indeed,  like  a  Daniel  doomed  to  convocate 
my  own  lions,  and  lacking  that  faith  in  a  preserving 
Providence  which  is  believed  to  have  cheered  and  elevated 
the  spirit  of  the  ancient  prophet,  I  confidently  expected, 
on  the  whole,  to  be  devoured. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  69 

Gathered  into  their  den,  my  lively  herd  gasped  some 
moments  as  though  suffering  the  last  loud  agony  of  expir 
ing  breath,  and  then,  bethinking  them  of  that  only  one  of 
their  free  and  native  elements  now  obtainable,  they  sent 
up  a  universal  cry  for  "  water  !  " 

Ah  !  what  to  do  with  them  through  the  long  hours  of 
the  day  —  beautiful  creatures  !  by  no  means  unlovable, 
with  their  bright,  clear  eyes,  their  restless,  restless  feet, 
their  overflowing  spirits ;  their  bodies  all  alive,  but  with 
minds  unfitted  by  birth,  unskilled  by  domestic  discip 
line  to  any  sort  of  earnest  and  prolonged  effort.  Long, 
weary  hours,  therefore,  not  of  furnishing  instruction 
to  the  hungry  and  enquiring  mind  —  ah,  no  !  —  but  of  a 
desperately  sustained  struggle  in  which,  with  every  faculty 
on  the  alert  to  discover  the  truest  expedients,  with  every 
nerve  strained  to  the  utmost,  I  strove  lor  the  mastery  over 
this  antic,  untamed  animal,  until  I  could  throw  the  reins 
loose  at  night,  and  drop  my  head  down  on  my  desk 
in  the  deserted  school-room,  tired,  tired,  tired  ! 

The  parents  of  the  children  "  dropped  in  "  often  at  the 
Ark,  and  savored  the  lively  and  varied  flow  of  their  dis 
course  with  choice  dissertations  on  methods  of  discipline. 

"  I  want  my  children  whipped,"  said  Mr.  Randal  Alden. 
"  That's  what  they  need.  They  git  enough  of  it  at  home. 
It  won't  skeer  'em  any  —  and  I  tell  the  folks  if  they'd  all 
talk  like  that,  they  would  n't  be  no  trouble  in  the  school." 

"  Ye  can't  drive  Milton  P. ,"  said  that  hopeful's  mother. 
"  He's  been  drove  so  much  that  he  don't  take  no  notice 
of  it.  If  coaxing  won't  fetch  him,  nothin'  won't ;  and 
I  tell  '*m  if  they  was  all  like  that,  they  wouldn't  be 
no  trouble  in  the  school." 

"  Well,"  said  Emily  Gaskell,  the  matron  of  the  painted 


70  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

house,  a  tall,  angular  woman,  with  the  hectic  ot  the 
orthodox  Yankee  consumption  on  her  cheeks,  and  the 
orthodox  Yankee  twinkle  in  her  eye,  "ye  can  manage 
my  boys  whatever  way  ye  please,  teacher.  I  ain't  per- 
tickeler.  They've  been  coaxed  and  they've  been  whipped, 
but  they've  always  made  out  to  mind  by  doin'  pretty 
much  as  they  was  a  mind  to.  They  're  smart  boys,  too," 
she  added,  with  sincere  pride,  "  but  they  don't  take 
to  larnin'.  I  never  see  sich  boys.  Ye  can't  git  no  larnin' 
into  'em,  no  way.  They'd  rather  be  whipped  than  go  to 
school.  Sim  had  a  man  to  work  on  our  cranberry  bog, 
and  he  found  out  that  he  was  first  rate  in  'rithmetic,  this 
man  was,  and  so  Sim,  says  he,  'I'll  give  ye  the  same 
ye  git  on  the  bog/  says  he,  'to  stay  up  to  the  house  and 
larn  my  boys  'rithmetic,'  says  he,  and  the  man,  he  tried 
it,  and  in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two,  he  come  around  to 
Sim,  and  wanted  to  know  if  he  could  n't  go  back  to  clarin' 
bog  again." 

Emily  took  in  the  broadly  contemplative  expression  on 
GrandmaSpicer's  benign  features,  and  then  winked  at  me 
facetiously :  "  I  tell  'em  if  they  was  all  like  that,"  said 
she,  "and  I  guess  they  be,  pretty  much,  they  might 
as  well  be  out  o'  doors  as  in,  and  less  worryin'  to  the 
teacher." 

It  might  have  been  the  third  day  of  my  labors  in 
Wallencamp  that  a  man,  having  the  appearance  of  a 
lame  giant,  entered  the  school-room,  and  advanced  to 
.meet  me  with  an  imposing  dignity  of  mien.  He  held 
captive,  with  one  powerful  hand,  a  stubbornly  speech 
less,  violently  struggling  boy.  I  recognized  the  man  as 
Godfrey  Cradlebow,  the  handsome  fiddler's  father,  and 
the  boy  was  none  other  than  the  imp  whose  eyes,  scorch- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  71 

ing  and  defiant  now,  had  first  sent  mocking  glances  back 
at  me  while  their  light-limbed  owner  kicked  out  a  jaunty 
rigadoon  from  under  the  encircling  folds  of  his  sacerdotal 
vestments. 

"  Miss  Hungerford,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  elder 
Cradlebow,  with  a  distinct,  refined  enunciation  foreign 
to  the  native  element  of  Wallencamp  whose  ordinary 
locution  had  something  of  a  Hoosier  accent.  "  After  a 
good  deal  of  trouble  in  catching  him,  I  have  finally 
succeeded  in  bringing  you  in  this  —  a  —  this  little  dev" 
—  he  made  an  impressive  pause,  patted  his  fiery  offspring 
on  the  head  with  fatherly  dignity,  and  eyed  him,  at  once 
doubtfully  and  reflectively. 

I  was  interested  in  observing  the  aspect  of  the  two 
faces. 

"  The  little  boy  resembles  you,  I  think,"  I  said. 

The  lame  man  struck  his  cane  down  hard  upon  the 
floor  arid  laughed  immoderately. 

"  If  you  knew  what  I  had  in  my  mind  to  say  !  "  he 
exclaimed  —  "  Ah  !  that  was  well  put,  well  put !  —  though 
but  dubiously  complimentary,  but  dubiously  so,  I  assure 
you,  either  to  father  or  son  !  " 

The  idea  still  continuing  to  tickle  him,  he  laughed 
more  gently,  beating  a  sympathetic  tattoo  with  his  cane  on 
the  floor. 

"  To  pursue  directly  the  cause  of  my  intrusion  here," 

he  went  on,  at  length,  "this  little well,  for  present 

purposes,  we  will  call  him  the  Phenomenon.  I  confess  it 
is  a  name  to  which  he  is  not  totally  unused.  This  little 
phenomenon,  whom  you  see  before  you,  is  the  young 
est  but  one  in  a  flock  of  thirteen.  Some  of  that 
beautiful  band  —  "  here  Mr.  Cradlebow  raised  a  very 


73  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

shalcy  hand  for  an  instant  to  his  eyes,  and  although 
a  fitting  occasion  for  sentiment,  i  was  compelled 
to  think  of  what  Grandpa  Spicer  had  said  about  Godfrey 
Cradlebow  's  "  sprees  "  —  "  Some  of  that  beautiful 
band  rest  in  the  grave-yard,  yonder.  Some  of  them 
already  know  what  it  is  themselves  to  be  parents. 
Some  of  them  still  linger  in  the  poor,  old  home 
nest.  I  see  you  have  here,  my  Alvin,  and  my 
Wallace,  and  my  youngest,  the  infant  Sophronia. 
Well,  you  find  them  good  children,  I  dare  say.  Ah ! 
they  have  an  estimable  mother."  Again,  he  lifted  his 
hand  to  his  eyes.  "  Mischievous  enough,  you  find  them, 
probably,  but  amenable  —  there  it  is,  amenable,  —  but 
this  lad,"  Mr.  Cradlebow  paused  again,  shaking  his 
head  with  a  meaning  to  which  he  gravely  declined  further 
expression. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  I  enquired  of  the  little  boy, 
hopefully. 

"  Simmy  B.,"  he  answered  revengefully  in  a  tone  of 
alarming  hoarseness. 

"  Such  colds  as  that  boy  has  !  "  exclaimed  the  paternal 
Cradlebow.  "  They're  like  all  the  rest  of  him  —  they're 
phenomenal.  There  are  times  when  that  boy  appears  to 
be  nothing  but  one  frightful,  perambulating  cold  !  Well," 
he  sighed,  "and  yet  it's  a  strange  fact,  that  the  more 
depraved  and  miserable  a  little  devil  is,  the  more  his 
mother  '11  coddle  him. 

"  Now  there's  this  one  and  my  Ben  —  Benney  Leon 
ard —  a  good  boy,  but  lacking  all  capacity  for  rest  — 
Always  lacking  the  capacity  for  rest  —  uneasy,  both  of 
them  —  always  uneasy!  but  how  the  mother  would  give 
her  own  rest  for  them  and  seem  to  love  them  the  better 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  73 

for  it  1  strange  !  They  have  always  been  her  idols,  too. 
Well,  I  have  captured  Simeon  and  brought  him  in.  1 
hope  you  may  keep  him.  The  rest  you  must  learn 
for  yourself.  The  Lord  help  me ! "  he  groaned,  as 
he  picked  up  his  cane,  with  evident  physical  pain,  and 
hobbled  out  of  the  room. 

Within  the  school-room,  things  resumed  their  custom 
ary,  Niagara-like  roar,  until  a  lamentable  voice  rose 
above  the  others,  and  was  straightway  followed  by  another 
voice  in  indignant  explanation. 

"  Teacher,  can't  Simmy  B.  stop  ?  He's  puttin'  beans 
down  Amber  G.'s  neck  !  " 

"  Simeon  !  "  I  exclaimed,  in  accents  calculated  to  melt 
that  youthful  heart  of  stone,  and  then  added,  "  I  will  speak 
with  you  a  few  moments  alone,  at  recess." 

Simeon  looked  no  longer  helplessly  angry  as  when  his 
father  brought  him  in.  He  appeared,  on  the  whole,  well 
pleased,  but  I  scanned  his  angelic  features  in  vain  for  any 
trace  of  repentance. 

There  followed  a  few  moments  of  comparative  quiet. 
Then  came  a  startling,  sickening  sound  as  of  some 
one  undergoing  the  tortures  of  strangulation.  Then, 
a  long,  convulsive  gasp.  I  looked  down  upon  a  sea 
of  round  eyes  and  uplifted  hands. 

"  Teacher,  Simmy's  swallered  a  slate-pencil  1  Simmy's 
swallered  a  slate-pencil !" 

"  He's  swallered  most  a  hull  one  !  "  cried  the  owner  of 
one  pair  of  protruding  orbs. 

"  It  wa'n't ! "  retorted  Simeon,  flaming  with  righteous 
indignation  —  "  It  wa'n't  but  harf  a  one  !  " 

"  He  t-t-told  me,"  cried  a  young  scion  of  the  stammer 
ing  Peterson  race,  all  breathless  with  excitement,  "  that 


74  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

he  was  a  going  to  p-p-put  it  into  his  m-m-mouth  and 
t-t-take  it  out  of  his  n-n-nose,  and  he  did  and  it  t-t-t— 
and  it  slip-p-ped  !  " 

"  Wall,  jest  you  keep  your  eyes  peeled  and  your 
ears  cocked,"  replied  the  sturdy  Simeon,  in  hoarse  and 
jarring  accents,  "  and  see  if  I  don't  take  it  out  of  my 
nose,  yet." 

The  signs  of  that  painful  struggle  slowly  faded  out  of 
Simeon's  face  and  there  was  an  unusual  calm  in  the 
school-room. 

Perhaps  a  quarter  of  an  hour  elapsed.  I  was  thought 
fully  engaged  in  hearing  one  of  my  classes  when  startled 
by  the  sound  of  a  window  closed  with  a  sharp  bang.  At 
the  same  time  arose  the  universal  voice  : 

"  Simmy  B.'s  got  out  o'  the  winder  !  Simmy  B.'s  got 
out  o'  the  winder  !  " 

I  looked  out  across  the  snowless  fields,  and  there,  having 
already  scaled  two  fences  and  put  many  a  good  rod 
between  himself  and  the  scene  of  his  brief  imprisonment,  I 
beheld,  borne  as  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  the  form 
of  the  retreating  Simeon. 

An  incident  at  the  close  of  my  first  week  in  Wallen- 
camp  was  the  visit  of  the  "  Turkey  Mogul."  Such 
was  the  name  given  by  the  Wallencampers  to  Mr.  Baxter, 
the  Superintendent  of  Schools. 

Mr.  Baxter  lived  miles  a\vay  in  Farmouth,  and  was, 
properly,  the  visitor  of  the  schools  in  Farmouth  County. 
Wallencamp  was  not  in  Farmouth  County.  Nevertheless, 
Mr.  Baxter  had  charge  of  the  Wallencamp  school.  I 
had  been  informed  that  he  drove  over  at  the  beginning 
and  close  of  each  term,  put  the  scholars  through  the 
most  "dreadful  examins,"  and  gave  an  indiscriminate 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  75 

"  blowin'  up  "  to  persons  and  things  in  the  place.  So  I 
looked  forward  to  his  coming  with  a  curiosity  not  un- 
mingled  with  more  doubtful  emotions. 

It  was  Friday,  and  so  near  the  close  of  the  afternoon 
session,  that  I  had  quite  dismissed  from  my  mind  the 
contemplation  of  any  dread  advent  for  that  day.  It  was 
just  at  that  trying  hour  of  Friday  afternoon  when  only 
the  spelling  classes  remained  to  be  heard,  and  teacher 
and  scholars  both  were  conscious,  the  one  with  a 
deep  inward  sense  of  relief,  the  others  with  many  restless 
demonstrations  of  impatience,  that  the  week  was  near  its 
close,  and  that  "  tomorrow  "  would  be  Saturday  and  a 
holiday. 

Estella  —  the  raven-haired,  familiarly  known  as  the 
"Modoc,"  a  long  and  ungainly  creature,  with  arms  and  legs 
so  seemingly  profuse  and  unmanageable,  that  they  re 
minded  one  of  the  tentacles  of  a  cuttle-fish —  Estella  was 
"  passing  around  the  water." 

She  was  performing  this  accustomed  office  with  a 
grin  of  such  supreme  Delight  and  satisfaction  as  seemed 
actually  to  illuminate  the  back  of  her  head,  when  the  door 
of  the  school-room  opened,  and  there,  without  any 
previous  warning,  appeared  a  grim,  fierce  looking  little 
man,  whom  I  knew  at  once  to  be  the  "  Turkey  Mogul.  " 

The  extreme  exigency  of  the  case  inspired  me  with 
a  certain  calmness  of  despair.  Having  advanced  to  meet 
this  august  personage,  conducted  him  to  the  desk  and 
placed  for  him  the  official  chair,  which  he  shortly  refused, 
I  lifted  my  eyes,  "  prepared  for  any  fate,"  to  observe 
what  might  be  the  condition  of  my  turbulent  flock, 
and  lo  —  all  the  tops,  and  Jews-harps,  and  apples,  and 
whirligigs,  and  miniature  buzz  saws  had  disappeared,  and 


76  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

there  was  an  array  of  pallid  faces  bent  over  another  array 
of  books — many  of  the  latter  were  upside  down,  b.ut  the 
effect  was  unbroken.  Even  Estella,  moved  by  some 
sudden  divine  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things,  had  ceased 
her  desultory  wanderings  about  the  room  with  the  tin 
dipper,  and,  not  having  had  time  to  procure  a  book, 
was  working  out  imaginary  problems  on  her  fingers  with 
the  air  of  a  Herschel,  and  I  became  slowly  conscious 
that  there  was  such  a  stillness  in  that  room  as  had  not 
been  —  no,  nor  anything  like  unto  it, —  since  the  first 
time  I  entered  there. 

I  think  Mr.  Baxter  must  have  observed  something 
of  the  look  of  helpless  astonishment  which  transfixed  my 
features.  I  certainly  saw  the  shadow  of  a  smile  lurking 
in  his  steel  grey  eyes. 

"Yes,"  he  snarled,  addressing  the  school,  "yes,  if 
I  did  n't  know  you,  now,  and  if  your  books  were  not 
most  of  'em,  bottom  side  up,  and  if  I  should  n't  be  com 
pelled  in  two  minutes  to  prove  the  contrary,  I  might 
possibly  imagine  that  you  were  studying  —  yes  — 
Humph  ! " 

I  said  to  Mr.  Baxter,  as  cheerfully  as  possible,  that  "  we 
were  nearly  through  with  our  usual  routine  of  classes  for 
the  day,  but  I  should  be  happy,  of  course,  to  repeat  any  of 
the  recitations  which  he  might  care  to  hear." 

"  Would  you  ?  "  said  he,  looking  at  me  not  unpleasantly. 
"Do  you  really  ask  me  to  believe  that?  um-m-m," 
he  murmured,  resuming  his  stern  aspect.  "  Let  me  see — 
Geography  —  yes,  Miss  Hungerford,  you  may  call  the 
first  class  in  Geography." 

I  did  not  accuse  the  Superintendent  of  Schools  of 
malevolent  intentions,  but  I  could  honestly  have  affirmed 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  77 

that  of  all  the  divisions  and  subdivisions  of  my  empire  the 
first  class  in  Geography  was  the  one  least  calculated  to 
shine  on  an  occasion  like  the  present. 

I  groaned,  inwardly,  and  called  them  forth.  Their 
forlorn  and  wilted  appearance  as  they  formed  in  line  went 
to  my  heart.  I  was  resolved  to  defend  them  at  whatever 
cost. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Baxter,  planting  himself  firmly, 
with  his  legs  rather  far  apart,  thrusting  his  hands  in 
his  pockets  and  staring  steadily  at  the  shivering  group 
from  under  his  awful  brows,  "  what  is  Geography?  to  begin 
with.  That's  the  first  thing.  What  is  Geography?  " 

For  a  moment  there  was  no  reply.  I  almost  began  to 
hope  that  there  would  be  none.  I  felt  that  here  "  Silence 
was  golden,"  and  if  maintained,  all  might  be  comparatively 
well,  when,  to  my  dismay,  there  was  a  sort  of  flank  move 
ment  in  the  ranks  and  the  ill-starred  Estella  raised  her 
hand. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Baxter,  pointing  his  finger  steadfastly 
at  her  as  if  to  impart  a  vein  of  concentration  to  her  pal 
pably  loose  and  floating  appearance,  "  You  !  you  ought  to 
know.  What  is  Geography,  eh? " 

Some  fair  wreck  of  an  idea,  formerly  appropriated  in 
this  connection,  floated  through  the  brain  of  the  "  Modoc." 
She  opened  her  mouth  and  in  those  loud  and  startling 
accents,  for  which  she  was  ever  distinguished,  gave 
utterance  to  these  memorable  words  : 

"A  — round!  like  a  ball !" 

Mr.  Baxter  glared  fiercely  at  her,  for  a  moment,  and 
then  permitted  his  scorn  to  escape  in  a  long,  sarcastic 
hiss. 

"  Yes-s-s,"  said  he,  "yes-s-s  1  around  like  a  ball  I    Do 


78  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

you  find  it  much  in  your  way,  eh  ?  Do  you  often  give  it 
such  a  kick  as  that,  eh  ?  Well,  take  your  seats  !  take 
your  seats  !  " 

The  Superintendent  of  Schools  seemed  disinclined 
to  evoke  any  further  catastrophes  of  this  sort,  but  pro 
ceeded  to  discourse  to  me,  aside,  in  a  confidential 
growl,  on  the  peculiar  and  erratic  natures  of  the  benighted 
Wallencampers . 

"  Their  minds,"  he  said,  with  a  grim  smile,  "  have 
no  receptivity.  They  must  originate,  or  they  are  naught* 
Parents  and  children  —  they  are  all  the  same.  I  am 
convinced  that  there  is  no  scholarship  to  be  established 
here.  It  has  been  tried  and  the  attempt  has  failed 
a  hundred  times.  It's  not  in  the  nature  of  things.  Get 
on  the  good  side  of  them,  that's  all.  That  has  failed 
sometimes,  but  it  is  not  among  the  impossible  things. 
Get  on  the  good  side  of  them." 

Finally,  he  turned  to  address  the  children.  The 
"  examins "  had  certainly  not  been  severe,  but  the 
"  blovvin'  up  "  was  faithfully  and  liberally  performed. 

Never  before  had  I  felt  so  drawn  to  my  poor,  wonder 
ing,  wolf  besieged  flock,  and  in  proportion  to  my  tender 
ness  for  them  waxed  my  indignation  toward  the  "  Turkey 
Mogul." 

"  You  can't  learn,"  said  he.  "That's  a  sufficiently  es 
tablished  fact,  but  if  you  don't  behave,  your  teacher  is 
going  to  write  to  me,  mind  !  and  I  shall  come  down  here 
in  my  buggy  and  take  you  right  up  and  off  to  Farmouth, 
where  we  have  a  place  to  keep  all  such  naughty  boys  and 
girls." 

This  last  was  evoked  as  a  benediction.  Mr.  Baxter 
looked  at  his  watch  and  remarked  that  it  was  a  long  drive 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  79 

to  Farmouth,  and   he   must  be   going.     "  Dismiss  your 

school,  Miss  Hungerford,"  he  said. 

Now  the  children  were  accustomed  —  it  was  a  special 
privilege  they  had  requested  —  to  sing,  before  the  school 
closed  at  night,  one  of  the  hymns  with  which  they  were 
all  so  familiar  in  Wallencamp. 

I  would  have  dismissed  them,  on  this  occasion,  without 
further  ceremony,  but  before  I  had  time  to  tap  my  ruler 
on  the  desk  as  a  signal  for  dismissal,  they  all  struck  up  as 
with  one  voice : 

"  What  a  friend  we  have  In  Jesus, 
All  our  griefs  and  woes  to  share! 
What  a  privilege  to  carry 
Everything  to  God  in  prayer." 

At  first  I  was  a  little  amused  at  the  incongruity  of  the 
thing.  Then  it  began  to  seem  to  me  inexpressibly 
touching. 

The  Superintendent  of  Schools  stood  with  a  cold, 
supercilious  grin  on  his  face,  a  stern,  self-sufficient  man, 
not  one  likely  to  echo  the  spirit  of  these  simple  words. 

I  stood  beside  him,  weary  and  perplexed  enough,  but 
ever  taking  council  of  the  pride  of  my  own  heart.  And 
those  poor  children,  with  their  hard,  toilsome,  barren  lives 
before  them,  how  they  sang  !  their  clear,  young  voices 
ringing  out  fearlessly,  carelessly — they  knew  the  words. 

I  wondered  if  any  one  in  the  room  appreciated  the 
song  as  having  inner  truth  and  meaning. 

As  I  was  locking  my  desk,  before  leaving  the  room,  I 
discovered  this  little  note,  which  Ethel  had  dropped  in  it. 

"  dere  teecher, 

"  I  wanted  to  do  sumthyng  to  help  yu  wen 
I  seen  him  combing  in  To  Day  fur  I  new  jus  howe 
yu  felt  but  thay  wasent  no  wours  than  thay  always  was, 


80  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

and  he  nose  it !  and  thay  studdid  more  fur  yu  I  think 
than  thay  did  for  any  but  I  think  it  mus  be  harrd  for  yu 
not  bein'  use  to  us.  I  think  yu  was  tired.  Wen 
we  was  singin*  I  thot  howe  tired  yu  was,  but  thar 
was  always  won  to  help.  Excus  writin  pleas  but  I  wanted 
to  let  yu  no  for  yu  was  good  to  me  and  I  lov  yu. 

Ethel." 

Some  how,  the  little  note  rested  and  comforted  me, 
more  than  I  would  have  imagined,  a  week  before, 
any  expression  of  this  humble  disciple  of  mine  could 
have  done. 

I  held  the  letter  crumpled  in  my  hand  going  up  the 
lane.  Going  up  the  lane,  too,  I  met  Emily's  fisherman 
coming  gayly  home  from  the  river. 

Mr.  Turner  stopped  and  gallantly  requested  the 
pleasure  of  carrying  a  small  book  which  I  held  in 
my  hand.  He  walked  back  to  the  ark  with  me,  talking 
very  fluently  the  while. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  began,  "  I  think  I'm  awfully 
fortunate  meeting  you  here  in  the  lane.  I've  been  wish 
ing  for  an  opportunity  to  speak  with  you  for  two  or 
three  days  past,  but  the  Ark  is  such  a  popular  resort  for 
the  youth  of  Wallencamp,  and  the  children  seem  to  be 
always  following  you.  Well,  they  regard  the  school  teacher 
as  their  special  property,  and  would  consider  me  worse 
than  an  intruder  if  I  should  go  in  to  take  even  the  lowest 
seat  in  tne  synagogue.  I've  been  wanting  to  speak  with 
you,  ever  since  that  first  night — when  I  stared  at  you 
so  stupidly  at  Captain  Spicer's  —  when  I  went  up  to 
borrow  the  oars,  and  you  were  engaged,  you  remem 
ber,"  said  Mr.  Turner,  laughing  gently,  "  in  wresting 
particles  of  hulled  com  from  the  ocean  depths  of  that 
kettle." 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  81 

"I  remember,"  I  said,  trying  to  smother  what  an 
noyance  I  still  felt  at  the  recollection.  "  I  admit  that 
it  was  a  very  striking  scene.  It  was  very  good,"  I  added, 
religiously,  referring  to  the  corn.  Mr.  Turner  ought 
to  know,  I  thought,  that  I  had  come  to  Wallencamp  on  a 
mission,  and  that  if  he  wished  to  scoff  at  the  ways 
of  its  defenceless  inhabitants,  he  should  n't  look  to  find  a 
confidante  in  me. 

"The  hulled  corn?  Oh!  yes,  indeed!"  he  answered 
with  a  sprightly  air.  "We  have  it  served  in  the 
same  way  at  Emily's,  and  we  think  it's  just  —  a  —  rich, 
you  know.  But  I  wanted  to  tell  you.  If  you  could  have 
known  how  confoundedly .  struck  up  I  was  when  I 
went  into  the  Ark  that  night,  you  would  n't  think  it 
so  strange  my  standing  staring  there  like  a  fool.  You 
see,  we  fellows  picking  up  everything  of  interest 
down  here  to  amuse  ourselves  with,  heard  that  there 
was  a  new  school  teacher  coming,  so  we  gave  our 
imaginations  free  rein.  We  were  laughing  it  over  among 
ourselves,  and  Smith  said,  '  she'd  probably  have  hair  like 
Turner's,'  and  Jake  said  ' she'd  wear  spectacles,  and  have 
a  nose  like  the  Clipper  in  the  Three  Fates?  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing.  So  I  went  up  that  night  to  see, 
just  for  the  deuce  of  it,  and  not  to  get  the  oars  a*  ^T!5  and 
I  was  deucedly  well  paid  for  it,  toe.  *u  tact,  Miss 
Hungerford,"  said  the  fisherman,  darting  a  keen  glance  at 
me  from  his  laughing  eyes,  "  I  did  go  up  to  scoff,  but  I 
remained  to  pray." 

My  ears  had  never  been  conscientiously  closed  to  the 
voice  of  idle  praise,  but  with  this,  for  some  reason,  I  was 
not  well  pleased. 

"  Your  attitude  was  certainly  devotional,"  I  answered, 
I 


82  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

without  haste.  "Your  friend,"  I  added,  "must  be 
something  of  a  seer.  Here  are  the  literal  glasses  !  " 

"  Nonsense  !"  said  Mr.  Turner,  coloring  slightly,  "you 
know  I  didn't  mean  that  —  just  being  a  little  near 
sighted.  I  said  spectacles.  Besides,"  and  the  fisherman 
looked  me  full  and  unblushingly  in  the  face — "if  I 
had  such  eyes  as  yours,  by  Jove,  I  would  n't  mind  whether 
I  could  see  anything  out  of  'em  or  not !  " 

"  You  will  hardly  expect  me  to  thank  you  for  that,"  I 
murmured,  with  a  sincere  flash  of  indignation,  not  that  I 
was  unmindful  of  certain  reckless  moods  of  old,  when 
I  had  found  it  not  impossible  to  listen  even  with  calmness, 
to  vain  demonstrations  of  this  sort,  but  I  felt  that  I 
was  a  different  person  now,  in  a  different  sphere  of  action. 

Mr.  Turner  knew  nothing  of  me  except  that  I  was  the 
Teacher  of  the  Wallencamp  school  —  a  doubtful  position 
to  his  mind. 

He  fancied  that  he  might  "  pick  me  up,"  to  "  amuse" 
himself  with,  I  thought,  and  at  the  reflection,  I  felt 
an  angry  glow  rising  from  heart  to  cheek. 

Meanwhile  the  fisherman  gnawed  his  moustache  rue 
fully.  This  idle  worldling  could  assume,  occasionally, 
a  whimsical  helplessness  of  expression,  with  an  air  of 
aggrieved  and  child-like  candor,  somewhat  baffling  to  the 
stern  desi^.^  ~*  iustice. 

"Now  I've  offended  you,"  he  began,  exchanging 
his  tone  of  easy  nonchalance  for  one  of  slow  and  awkward 
dejection.  "  And  you  think  I've  had  the  impudence  — 
well,  if  either  one  of  us  two  is  going  to  be  taken  in,  Miss 
Hungerford,  I  can  tell  you  it's  a  blamed  sight  more  likely 
to  be  me ;  but  you  're  prejudiced  against  me,  I  can  see. 
You  were  prejudiced  against  me  that  first  night.  I  know 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  83 

how  those  old  women  talk.  They've  got  an  idea,  some 
how,  that  I'm  a  scapegrace,  and  a  desperate  character. 
And,  on  my  word,  Miss  Hungerford,  I'm  considered 
a  real  model  chap  there  at  home,  and  make  speeches 
to  the  little  boys  and  girls  in  Sunday  School,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  On  my  word,  I  do." 

Mr.  Turner  spoke  quite  warmly.  I  could  not  help 
laughing  at  his  droll  self-vindication. 

"I  should  like  to  ask  you  to  speak  to  my  little 
boys  and  girls ! "  I  said,  "  but  it's  too  harrowing  to 
the  feelings.  I  listened  to  one  address  this  after 
noon." 

"The  < Turkey  Mogul?'  Oh,  that  isn't  my  style!" 
said  Mr.  Turner.  "  I  don't  sear  their  young  vision 
with  the  prospect  of  eternal  flames.  I  entice  them 
with  the  blandishments  of  future  reward."  Let  me  go 
in  some  day,  and  I  promise  you  in  one  brief  half  hour 
to  destroy  the  cankering  effect  of  all  that  the  '  Turkey 
Mogul'  has  ever  said.  At  least,  I  shall  serve  as  an 
antidote  —  a  cheerful  and  allaying  antidote  to  the 
wormwood  of  censorious  criticism." 

Thus  the  voluble  fisherman  ran  on  with  an  air  of 
simple  and  charming  ingenuousness,  while  I  reflected 
that  here  possibly  was  a  light  and  aimless  creature 
whom  I  had  mentally  convicted  of  ungracious  designs, 
that,  although  his  presence  in  Wallencamp,  as  a 
representative  of  the  great  world  I  believed  I  had  left 
behind  me,  was  rather  mal  a  propos,  it  might  be  that 
I  ought  to  consider  him  providentially  included  in  my 
field  of  labor,  and  as  one  of  the  objects  of  my  re 
generating  care. 

Whether  Mr.  Turner  detected  anything  of  this  philan- 


84  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

thropic   intention,  I  do  not  know.    When  we  got  to 

the  gate  he  said : 

"  Will  you  go  with  me  for  a  drive  to-morrow,  Miss 
Hungerf ord  ?  You  know  what  the  Wallencamp  equipages 
are.  They  furnish  entertainment,  at  all  events.  The 
drive  to  West  Wallen  is  really  beautiful  —  even  at  this 
season  of  the  year,  with  such  uncommonly  fine  weather, 
and  you  have  a  holiday,  and  the  mail  has  n't  been  brought 
from  West  Wallen  for  nearly  a  week." 

I  thanked  the  fisherman  almost  eagerly,  thinking, 
at  that  instant,  of  the  longed-for  letters  that  I  knew  were 
waiting  for  me  in  the  West  Wallen  Post  Office. 

Then,  suddenly,  I  felt  Ethel's  little  note  grow  heavy 
in  my  hand. 

To  act  voluntarily  for  others  —  to  consider  as  serious 
any  obstacles  in  the  way  of  following  out  my  personal 
inclinations  —  these  were  experiences  too  new  to  me, 
and  my  resolve  was  not  a  natural  one,  but  forced  and 
impatient. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  I  said,"but  I  can't  go  to-morrow." 

The  two  little  Spicers  came  running  out  of  the  Ark 
to  meet  me.  I  was  secretly  relieved.  Mr.  Turner  had 
been  watching  me  narrowly,  his  lips  curled,  and  his  eyes 
flashed  with  a  half  angry,  half  scornful  light.  He  cast  an 
unloving  glance  at  the  little  Spicers. 

4<  I  can't,  of  course,  question  the  justice  of  your 
decision,"  he  said  shortly,  and  touched  his  hat  and  walked 
away  without  another  word. 

I  considered  this  as  one  of  the  least  among  my  many 

trials  and  perplexities.  Oftentimes  I  sighed  for 
the  light  hearted  irresponsible "  days  of  yore  when 
"  missions  "  were,  as  yet,  to  me  unknown. 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  86 

School  was  the  greatest  perplexity.  Grandma  Spicer's 
tenderness  grew  more  impressive  each  day. 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  're  a  growin'  bleak  and  holler- 
eyed,  teacher,"  she  would  say  to  me  when  I  came  home 
at  night. 

So  I  indulged  more  and  more  in  a  deeply  sentimental 
self-pity  and  felt  a  growing  satisfaction  in  the  conscious 
ness  that  I  was  enduring  martyrdom.  It  was  more 
by  reason  of  a  stubborn  and  desperate  pride,  I  think,  than 
from  higher  motives,  that,  hi  my  letters  home,  I  said 
nothing  of  the  discomforts  and  discouragements  which 
attended  my  course.  I  chose  to  dilate  on  the  beautiful 
scenery  of  Wallencamp,  and  the  quaint  originality  of  its 
inhabitants. 


CHAPTER  V. 

GRANDMA  SPICER  GETS  GRANDPA  READY  TOR  SUNDAY 
SCHOOL. 


morning,  nothing  arose  in  Wallencamp 
save  the  sun. 

At  least,  that  celestial  orb  had  long  forgotten 
all  the  roseate  flaming  of  his  youth,  in  an  honest  straight 
forward  march  through  the  heavens,  ere  the  first  signs 
of  smoke  came  curling  lazily  up  from  the  Wallencamp 
chimneys. 

I  had  retired  at  night,  very  weary,  with  the  delicious 
consciousness  that  it  would  n't  make  any  difference  when 
I  woke  up  the  next  morning,  or  whether,  indeed,  I  woke 
at  all. 

So  I  opened  my  eyes  leisurely  and  lay  half  dreaming, 
half  meditating  on  a  variety  of  things. 

I  deciphered  a  few  of  the  texts  on  the  scriptural  patch 
work  quilt  which  covered  my  couch. 

There  were  —  "  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,"  "  Re 
member  Lot's  wife,"  and  "  Abagail  Spicer,"  traced  in 
inky  hieroglyphics,  all  in  close  conjunction. 

Finally,  I  reached  out   for  my   watch,   and,  having 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

ascertained  the  time  of  day,  I  got  up  and  proceeded 
to  dress  hastily  enough,  wondering  to  hear  no  signs 
of  life  in  the  house. 

I  went  noiselessly  down  the  stairs.  All  was  silent, 
below,  except  for  the  peaceful  snoring  of  Mrs.  Abagail 
and  the  little  Spicers,  which  was  responded  to  from  some 
remote  western  corner  of  the  Ark  by  the  triumphant 
snores  of  Grandma  and  Grandpa  Spicer. 

I  attempted  to  kindle  a  fire  in  the  stove,  but  it  sizzled  a 
little  while,  spitefully,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  What,  Sunday 
morning  ?  Not  I  ! "  and  went  out.  So  I  concluded 
to  put  on  some  wraps  and  go  out  and  warm  myself  in  the 
sun. 

I  climbed  the  long  hill,  back  of  the  ark,  descended, 
and  walked  along  the  bank  of  the  river.  It  was  a  beauti 
ful  morning.  The  air  was  —  everything  that  could  be 
desired  in  the  way  of  air,  but  I  felt  a  desperate  need 
of  something  more  substantial. 

Standing  alone  with  nature,  on  the  bank  of  the  lovely 
river,  I  thought,  with  tears  in  my  eyes,  of  the  delicious 
breakfast  already  recuperating  the  wasted  energies  of  my 
far  away  home  friends. 

When  I  got  back  to  the  house,  Mrs.  Abagail,  in  simple 
and  unaffected  attire,  was  bustling  busily  about  the 
stove. 

The  snores  from  Grandma  and  Grandpa's  quarter  had 
ceased,  signifying  that  they,  also,  had  advanced  a  stage 
in  the  grand  processes  of  Sunday  morning. 

The  children  came  teasing  me  to  dress  them,  so 
I  fastened  for  them  a  variety  of  small  articles  which 
I  flattered  myself  on  having  combined  in  a  very  ingenious 
and  artistic  manner,  though  I  believe  those  infant  Spicers 


88  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

went  weeping  to  Grandma,  afterwards,  and  were  re 
modelled  by  her  all-comforting  hand  with  much  skill  and 
patience. 

In  the  midst  of  her  preparations  for  breakfast,  Abagail 
abruptly  assumed  her  hat  and  shawl,  and  was  seen  from 
the  window,  walking  leisurely  across  the  fields  in  the 
direction  of  the  woods.  She  returned  in  due  time,  bear 
ing  an  armful  of  fresh  evergreens  which  she  twisted  around 
the  family  register. 

When  the  ancient  couple  made  their  appearance,  I 
remarked  silently,  in  regard  to  Grandma  Spicer's  hair, 
what  proved  afterward  to  be  its  usual  holiday  morning 
arrangement. 

It  was  confined  in  six  infinitesimal  braids  which  ap 
peared  to  be  sprouting  out,  perpendicularly,  in  all  directions 
from  her  head. 

The  effect  of  redundancy  and  expansiveness  thus 
heightened  and  increased  on  Grandma's  features  was 
striking  in  the  extreme. 

While  we  were  eating  breakfast,  that  good  soul  observed 
to  Grandpa  Spicer :  "  Wall,  pa,  I  suppose  you'll  be  all 
ready  when  the  time  comes  to  take  teacher  and  me 
over  to  West  Wallen  to  Sunday  school,  wont  ye  ?  " 

Grandpa  coughed,  and  coughed  again,  and  raised 
his  eyes  helplessly  to  the  window. 

"Looks  some  like  showers,"  said  he.  "A-hem  !  a-hem  ! 
Looks  mightily  to  me  like  showers,  over  yonder." 

"  Thar,  r'aly,  husband  !  I  must  say  I  feel  mortified  for 
ye,"  said  Grandma.  "Seein'  as  you 're  a  perfessor,  too, 
and  thar  ain't  been  a  single  Sunday  mornin*  since 
I've  lived  with  ye,  pa,  summer  or  winter,  but  what  you've 
seen  showers,  and  it  r'aly  seems  to  me  it's  dreadful  incon- 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  89 

sistent  when  thar  ain't  no  cloud  in  the  sky,  and  don't  look 
no  more  like  rain  than  I  do."  And  Grandma's  face,  in 
spite  of  her  reproachful  tones,  was,  above  all,  blandly 
simlike  and  expressive  of  anything  rather  than  deluge  and 
watery  disaster. 

Grandpa  was  silent  a  little  while,  then  coughed  again. 
I  had  never  seen  Grandpa  in  worse  straits. 

"  A-hem  !  a-hem  !  *  Fanny '  seems  to  be  a  little  lame, 
this  morning,"  said  he.  "  I  should  'nt  wonder.  She's  been 
goin'  pretty  stiddy  this  week." 

"It  does  beat  all,  pa,"  continued  Grandma  Spicer, 
"  how  't  all  the  horses  you've  ever  had  since  I've  known 
ye  have  always  been  took  lame  Sunday  mornin'.  Thar 
was  *  Happy  Jack,'  he  could  go  anywhers  through  the 
week,  and  never  limp  a  step,  as  nobody  could  see,  and 
Sunday  mornin',  he  was  always  took  lame  !  And  thar 
was  *  Tantrum ' " 

"  Tantrum  "  was  the  horse  that  had  run  away  with 
Grandma  when  she  was  thrown  from  the  wagon,  and 
generally  smashed  to  pieces.  And  now,  Grandma 
branched  off  into  the  thrilling  reminiscenses  connected 
with  this  incident  of  her  life,  which  was  the  third  time 
during  the  week  that  the  horrible  tale  had  been  repeated 
for  my  delectation. 

When  she  had  finished,  Grandpa  shook  his  head  with  pain 
ful  earnestness,  reverting  to  the  former  subject  of  discussion. 

"  It's  a  long  jaunt !"  said  he,  "  a  long  jaunt !" 

"Thar's  a  long  hill  to  climb,  before  we  reach  Zion's 
mount,"  said  Grandma  Spicer,  impressively. 

"Wall,  there's  a  darned  sight  harder  one  on  the  road 
to  West  Wallen !"  burst  out  the  old  sea  captain  desper 
ately,  "  say  nothin'  about  the  devilish  stones  1 " 


90  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

"Thar  now,"  said  Grandma  with  calm  though  awful 
reproof  "  I  think  we've  gone  fur  enough  for  one  day ; 
we've  broke  the  Sabbath,  and  took  the  name  of  the  Lord 
in  vain,  and  that  ought  to  be  enough  for  perfessors." 

Grandpa  replied  at  length  in  a  greatly  subdued  tone. 

"  Wall,  if  you  and  the  teacher  want  to  go  over  to  Sun 
day  school  to-day,  I  suppose  we  can  go  if  we  get  ready," 
a  long  submissive  sigh — "  I  suppose  we  can." 

"  They  have  preachin'  service  in  the  mornin',  I  sup 
pose,"  said  Grandma.  "  But  we  don't  generally  git  along 
to  that.  It  makes  such  an  early  start.  We  generally  try 
to  get  around,  when  we  go,  in  time  for  Sunday  school. 
They  have  singin'  and  all.  It's  just  about  as  interestin'  I 
think,  as  preachin'."  "The  old  man  ra'ly  likes  it,"  she 
observed  aside  to  me,  "  when  he  once  gets  started,  but 
he  kind  o'  dreads  the  gittin  started." 

When  I  beheld  the  ordeal  through  which  Grandpa 
Spicer  was  called  to  pass,  at  the  hands  of  his  faithful  con 
sort,  before  he  was  considered  in  a  fit  condition  of  mind 
and  body  to  embark  for  the  sanctuary,  I  marvelled  not 
at  the  old  man's  reluctance,  nor  that  he  had  indeed  seen 
clouds  and  tempest  fringing  the  horizon. 

Immediately  after  breakfast,  he  set  out  for  the  barn, 
ostensibly  to  "  see  to  the  chores,"  really,  I  believe,  to 
obtain  a  few  moments'  respite,  before  worse  evil  should 
come  upon  him. 

Pretty  soon  Grandma  was  at  the  back  door  calling  in 
firm  though  persuasive  tones. 

"  Husband  !  Husband  !  Come  in,  now,  and  get  ready." 

No  answer.  Then  it  was  in  another  key,  weighty,  yet 
expressive  of  no  weak  irritation  that  Grandma  called— 
"  Come,  pa  !  pa  a  !  pa-a-a  I"  Still  no  answer. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Then  that  voice  of  Grandma's  sung  out  like  a  trumpet, 
terrible  with  meaning — "Hoggarty  Spicer  ! " 

But  Grandpa  appeared  not.  Next,  I  saw  Grandma 
slowly  but  surely  gravitating  in  the  direction  of  the  barn, 
and  soon  she  returned  bringing  with  her  that  ancient  de 
linquent  who  looked  like  a  lost  sheep  indeed  and  a  truly 
unreconciled  one. 

"  Now  the  first  thing," — said  Grandma,  looking  her 
forlorn  captive  over,— "is  boots.  Go  and  get  on  yer 
meetin'  gaiters,  pa." 

The  old  gentleman  having  invested  himself  with  those 
sacred  relics,  came  pathetically  limping  into  the  room. 

"  I  declare,  ma,"  said  he,  "  somehow  these  things  — 
phew!  Somehow  they  pinch  my  feet  dreadfully.  I 
don't  know  what  it  is,— phew!  They're  dreadful  on- 
comf'table  things  somehow." 

"Since  I've  known  ye,  pa,"  solemnly  ejaculated 
Grandma  Spicer, '"you've  never  had  a  pair  o'  meetin' 
boots  that  set  easy  on  yer  feet.  You'd  ought  to  get  boots 
big  enough  for  ye'  pa,"  she  continued  looking  down  dis 
approvingly  on  the  old  gentleman's  pedal  extremities, 
which  resembled  two  small  scows  at  anchor  in  black 
cloth  encasements,  "and  not  be  so  proud  as  tp  go 
to  pinchin'  yer  feet  into  gaiters  a  number  o'  siztfc  too 
small  for  ye." 

"  They  're  number  tens,  I  tell  ye  ! "  roared  Grandpa, 
nettled  outrageously  by  this  cutting  taunt. 

"  Wall,  thar,  now,  pa,"  said  Grandma,  soothingly,  "  if 
I  had  sech  feet  as  that,  I  wouldn't  go  to  spreadin' 
it  all  over  town,  if  I  was  you  —  but  it's  time  we  stopped 
bickerin',  now,  husband,  and  got  ready  for  meetin'; 
so  set  down  and  let  me  wash  yer  head." 


92  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

"  I've  washed  once  this  mornin'.  It's  clean  enough," 
Grandpa  protested,  but  in  vain.  He  was  planted  in 
a  chair,  and  Grandma  Spicer,  with  rag  and  soap  and  a 
basin  of  water,  attacked  the  old  gentleman  vigorously, 
much  as  I  have  seen  cruel  mothers  wash  the  faces  of 
their  earth-begrimed  infants.  He  only  gave  expression 
to  such  groans  as  : 

"  Thar,  ma  !  don't  tear  my  ears  to  pieces  !  Come,  ma  ! 
you've  got  my  eyes  so  full  o'  soap  now,  ma,  that  I  can't 
see  nothin'.  Phew  !  Lordy  !  ain't  ye  most  through  with 
this,  ma?" 

Then  came  the  dyeing  process,  which  Grandma  Spicer 
assured  me,  aside,  made  Grandpa  "  look  like  a  man  o' 
thirty,"  but,  to  me,  after  it  he  looked  neither  old  nor 
young,  human  nor  inhuman,  nor  like  anything  that  I  had 
ever  seen  before  under  the  sun. 

"There's  the  lotion,  the  potion,  the  dye-er,  and  the 
setter,"  said  Grandma,  pointing  to  four  bottles  on  the 
table.  "  Now  whar's  the  directions,  Abagail  ?  " 

These  having  been  produced  from  between  the  leaves 
of  the  family  bible,  Abagail  read,  while  Grandma  made  a 
vigorous  practical  application  of  the  various  mixtures, 

"This  admirable  lotion" — in  soft  ecstatic  tones  Aba- 
gial  rehearsed  the  flowery  language  of  the  recipe — 
"  though  not  so  instantaneously  startling  in  its  effect  as  our 
inestimable  dyer  and  setter,  yet  forms  a  most  essential 
part  of  the  whole  process,  opening,  as  it  does,  the 
dry  and  lifeless  pores  of  the  scalp,  imparting  to  them 
new  life  and  beauty,  and  rendering  them  more  easily 
susceptible  to  the  applications  which  follow.  But  we 
must  go  deeper  than  this;  a  tone  must  be  given  to 
the  whole  system  by  means  of  the  cleansing  and  rejuvenat- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  93 

ing  of  the  very  centre  of  our  beings,  and,  for  this  purpose, 
we  have  prepared  our  wonderful  potion."  Here,  Grandpa, 
with  a  wry  face,  was  made  to  swallow  a  spoonful  oi 
the  mixture.  "  Our  unparallelled  dyer,"  Abagail  con 
tinued,  "  restores  black  hair  to  more  than  original  gloss 
and  brilliancy,  and  gives  to  the  faded  golden  tress  the 
sunny  flashes  of  youth."  Grandpa  was  dyed.  "  Our  world 
renowned  setter  completes  and  perfects  the  whole  process, 
by  adding  tone  and  permanency  to  the  efficacious  qualities 
of  the  lotion,  potion,  and  dyer,  &c.,"  while  on  Grandpa's 
head  the  dye  was  set. 

"  Now,  read  teacher  some  of  the  testimonials,  daughter," 
said  Grandma  Spicer,  whose  face  was  one  broad,  generous 
illustration  of  that  rare  and  peculiar  virtue  called  faith. 

So  Abagail  continued  :  "  Mrs.  Hiram  Briggs,  of  North 
Dedham  writes  :  —  'I  was  terribly  afflicted  with  baldness, 
so  that,  for  months,  I  was  little  more  than  an  outcast 
from  society,  and  an  object  of  pity  to  my  most  familiar 
friends.  I  tried  every  remedy  in  vain.  At  length,  I 
heard  of  your  wonderful  restorative.  After  a  week's 
application,  my  hair  had  already  begun  to  grow  in 
what  seemed  the  most  miraculous  manner.  At  the 
end  of  ten  months,  it  had  assumed  such  length  and 
proportions  as  to  be  a  most  luxurious  burden,  and  where 
I  had  before  been  regarded  with  pity  and  aversion, 
I  became  the  envied  and  admired  of  all  beholders." 

"Just  think!"  said  Grandma  Spicer,  with  rapturous 
sympathy  and  gratitude,  "how  that  poor  creetur  must 
a'  felt  !  " 

" '  Orion  Spaulding  of  Weedsville,  Vermont,'  "  Abagail 
went  on  —  but,  here,  I  had  to  beg  to  be  excused,  and 
went  to  my  room  to  get  ready  for  the  Sunday  school. 


94  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

When  I  came  down  again,  Grandpa  Spicer  was  seated, 
completely  arrayed  in  his  best  clothes,  opposite  Grandma, 
who  held  the  big  family  bible  in  her  lap,  and  a 
Sunday  school  question  book  in  one  hand. 

"  Now,  pa,"  said  she,  "  what  tribe  was  it  in  sacred  writ, 
that  wore  bunnits?  " 

I  was  compelled  to  infer  from  the  tone  of  Grandpa 
Spicer's  answer  that  his  temper  had  not  undergone  a 
mollifying  process  during  my  absence. 

"  Come,  ma,"  said  he,  "how  much  longer  ye  goin'  to 
pester  me  in  this  way  ?  " 

"  Why,  pa,"  Grandma  rejoined  calmly,  "until  you  git  a 
proper  understandin'  of  it.  What  tribe  was  it,  in  sacred 
writ,  that  wore  bunnits?  " 

"  Lordy  ! "  exclaimed  the  old  man.  "  How  d'ye 
suppose  I  know  !  They  must  a'  been  a  tarnal  old  woman 
ish  lookin'  set,  any  way." 

"  The  tribe  o'  Judah,  pa,"  said  Grandma,  gravely. 
"  Now,  how  good  it  is,  husband,  to  have  your  under 
standin'  all  freshened  up  on  the  scripters  !  " 

"  Come,  come,  ma  ! "  said  Grandpa,  rising  nervously, 
"  It's  time  we  was  startin'.  When  I  make  up  my  mind 
to  go  any  where  I  always  want  to  git  there  in  time.  If  I 
was  goin'  to  the  Old  Harry,  I  should  want  to  git  there  in 
time." 

"  It's  my  consarn  that  we  shall  git  thar  before  time,  some 
on  us,"  said  Grandma,  with  sad  meaning,  "unless  we 
larn  to  use  more  respec'ful  language." 

I  shall  never  forget  how  we  set  off  for  church  that 
Sabbath  morning,  way  out  at  one  of  the  sunny  back  doors 
of  the  Ark,  for  there  was  Abagail's  little  cottage  that 
fronted  the  highway,  or  lane,  and  then  there  was  a 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  ^ 

long  backward  extension  of  the  Ark,  only  one  story 
in  height.  This  belonged  peculiarly  to  Grandma  and 
Grandpa  Spicer.  It  contained  the  •' parlor"  and  three 
"  keepin' "  rooms  opening  one  into  the  other,  all  of 
the  same  size  and  general  bare  and  gloomy  appearance, 
all  possessing  the  same  sacredly  preserved  atmosphere, 
through  which  we  passed  with  becoming  silence  and 
solemnity  into  the  "  end  "  room,  the  sunny  kitchen  where 
Grandma  and  Grandpa  kept  house  by  themselves  in  the 
summer  time,  and  there  at  the  door,  her  very  yellow  coat 
reflecting  the  rays  of  the  sun,  stood  Fanny,  presenting 
about  as  much  appearance  of  life  and  animation  as  a 
pensive  summer  squash. 

The  carriage,  I  thought,  was  a  fac-simile  of  the  one  in 
which  I  had  been  brought  from  West  VVallen  on  the  night 
of  my  arrival.  One  of  the  most  striking  peculiarities 
of  this  sort  of  vehicle  was  the  width  at  which  the  wheels 
were  set  apart.  The  body  seemed  comparatively  narrow. 
It  was  very  long,  and  covered  with  white  canvas. 
It  had  neither  windows  nor  doors,  but  just  the  one  guarded 
opening  in  front.  There  were  no  steps  leading  to  this, 
and,  indeed,  a  variety  of  obstacles  before  it.  And  the 
way  Grandma  effected  an  entrance  was  to  put  a 
chair  on  a  mound  of  earth,  and  a  cricket  on  top  of 
the  chair,  and  thus  having  climbed  up  to  Fanny's  re 
poseful  back,  she  slipped  passively  down,  feet  foremost, 
to  the  whi file-tree ;  from  thence  she  easily  gained  the 
plane  of  the  carriage  floor. 

Grandpa  and  I  took  a  less  circuitous,  though,  perhaps, 
not  less  difficult  route. 

I  sat  with  Grandpa  on  the  "  front  "  seat  —  it  may  be  re 
marked  that  the  "  front  "  seat  was  very  much  front,  and  the 


96  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

"back"  seat  very  much  back — there  was  a  kind  of 
wooden  shelf  built  outside  as  a  resting  place  for  the  feet, 
so  that  while  our  heads  were  under  cover,  our  feet  were 
out,  utterly  exposed  to  the  weather,  and  we  must  either 
lay  them  on  the  shelf,  or  let  them  hang  off  into  space. 

Abagail  and  the  children  stood  at  the  door  to  see  us  off. 

"  All  aboard  !  ship  ballasted  !  wind  fa'r  !  go  ahead, 
thar,  Fanny ! "  shouted  Grandpa,  who  seemed  quite 
restored  in  spirits,  and  held  the  reins  and  wielded  the 
whip  with  a  masterful  air. 

He  spun  sea  yarns,  too,  all  the  way  —  marvelous  ones, 
and  Grandma's  reproving  voice  was  mellowed  by  the 
distance,  and  so  confusedly  mingled  with  the  rumbling  of 
the  wheels,  that  it  seemed  hardly  to  reach  him  at  all. 
Not  that  Grandma  looked  discomfited  on  this  account,  or 
in  bad  humor.  On  the  contrary,  as  she  sat  back  there 
in  the  ghostly  shadows,  with  her  hands  folded,  and  her 
hair  combed  out  in  resplendent  waves  on  either  side 
of  her  head,  she  appeared  conscious  that  every  word 
she  uttered  was  taking  root  in  some  obdurate  heart. 
She  was,  in  every  respect,  the  picture  of  good  will  and 
contentment. 

But  the  face  under  Grandpa's  antiquated  beaver  began 
to  give  me  a  fresh  shock  every  time  I  looked  up  at  him, 
for  the  light  and  air  were  rapidly  turning  his  rejuvenated 
locks  and  his  poor,  thin  fringe  of  whiskers  to  an  unnatural 
greenish  tint,  while  his  bushy  eyebrows,  untouched  by  the 
hand  of  art,  shone  as  white  as  ever. 

In  spite  of  the  old  sea-captain's  entertaining  stories, 
it  seemed,  indeed,  "  a  long  jaunt  "  to  West  Wallen 

To  say  that  Fanny  was  a  slow  horse  would  be  but 
a  feeble  expression  of  the  truth. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  97 

A  persevering  "  click  !  click  !  click  !  "  began  to  arise 
from  Grandma's  quarter.  This  annoyed  Grandpa 
exceedingly. 

"  Shet  up,  ma ! "  he  was  moved  to  exclaim  at  last. 
"  I'm  steerin'  this  craft." 

"Click!  click!  click!"  came  perseveringly  from 
behind. 

"  Dum  it,  ma  !  thar,  ma  !  "  cried  Grandpa,  exasperated 
beyond  measure.  "How  is  this  hoss  goin'  to  hear 
anything  that  I  say,  ef  you  keep  up  such  a  tarnal 
cackliu'  ?  " 

Just  as  we  were  coming  out  of  the  thickest  part  of  the 
woods  about  a  mile  beyond  Wallencamp,  we  discovered 
a  man  walking,  in  the  distance.  It  was  the  only  human 
being  we  had  seen  since  we  started. 

"Hullo,  there's  NToel !  "  exclaimed  Grandpa.  "I  was 
wonderin'  why  we  had  n't  overtook  him,  before.  We 
gin 'ally  take  him  in,  on  the  road.  Yis,  yis ;  that's  Noel, 
ain't  it  teacher?" 

I  put  up  my  glasses,  helplessly. 

"  I'm  sure,"  I  said,  "  I  can't  tell,  positively.  I  have  n't 
seen  Noel  but  once,  and  at  that  distance  I  shouldn't 
know  my  own  father." 

"  Must  be  Noel,"  said  Grandpa.  tl  Yis,  I  know  him  ! 
Hullo,  thar  !  Ship  ahoy  !  ship  ahoy  !  " 

Grandpa's  voice  suggested  something  of  the  fire  and 
vigor  it  must  have  had  when  it  rang  out  across  the  foam  of 
waves  and  pierced  the  tempest's  roar. 

The  man  turned  and  looked  at  us  and  then  went  on 
again. 

"  He  don't  seem  to  rer^nize  us,"  said  Grandma. 

•'  Ship  a-hoy  !     Ship  a-hoy  ! "  shouted  Grandpa. 


9^  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

The  man  turned  and  looked  at  us  again,  and  this  time 
he  stopped  and  kept  on  looking. 

When  we  got  up  to  him,  we  saw  that  it  was  n't  Noel  at 
all,  but  a  stranger  of  trampish  appearance,  drunk  and  fiery, 
and  fixed  in  an  aggressive  attitude. 

I  was  naturally  terrified.  What  if  he  should  attack  us 
in  that  lonely  spot !  Grandpa  was  so  old  !  And  more 
over,  Grandpa  was  so  taken  back  to  find  that  it  wasn't 
Noel  that  he  began  some  blunt  and  stammering  expres 
sion  of  surprise,  which  only  served  to  increase  the 
stranger's  ire.  Grandma,  imperturbable  soul !  who  never 
failed  to  come  to  the  rescue  even  in  the  most  desperate 
emergencies — Grandma  climbed  over  to  the  front,  thrust 
out  her  benign  head,  and  said  in  that  deep,  calm  voice  of 
hers: 

"  We're  a  goin'  to  the  house  of  God,  brother,  wont  you 
git  in  and  go  too?" 

"  No  !  "  our  brother  replied,  doubling  up  his  fists  and 
shaking  them  menacingly  in  our  faces  : — "  I  won't  go  to 
no  house  o' God.  What  d'ye  mean  by  overhauling  me 

on  the  road,  and  askin'  me  to  git  into  yer  d d  old 

traveling  lunatic  asylum  !  " 

"  Drive  on,  pa,"  said  Grandma,  coldly:  "He  ain't  in 
no  condition  to  be  labored  with  now.  Drive  on  kind  o' 
quick!" 

'Kind  o1  quick*  we  could  not  go,  but  Fanny  was 
made  to  do  her  best,  and  we  did  not  pause  to  look 
behind. 

When  we  got  to  the  church,  Sunday  school  had  already 
begun.  There  was  Noel  looking  preternaturally  stiff  in 
his  best  clothes,  sitting  with  a  class  of  young  men.  He 
saw  us  when  we  came  in,  and  gave  me  a  look  of  deep 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  99 

meaning.  It  was  the  same  expression — as  though  there 
was  some  solemn,  mutual  understanding  between  us — 
which  he  had  worn  on  that  night  when  he  gave  me  his 
picture. 

"  There's  plenty  of  young  folks'  classes,"  said  Grandma, 
"but  seein'  as  we're  late  maybe  you'd  jest  as  soon  go 
right  along  in  with  us." 

1  said  that  I  should  like  that  best,  so  I  went  into  the 
"old  folks'"  class  with  Grandma  and  Grandpa  Spicer. 

There  were  three  pews  of  old  people  in  front  of  us,  and 
the  teacher,  who  certainly  seemed  to  me  the  oldest  person 
I  had  ever  seen,  sat  in  an  otherwise  vacant  pew  in  front 
of  all,  so  that, his  voice  being  very  thin  and  querulous, 
we  could  hear  very  little  that  he  said,  although  we 
were  edified  in  some  faint  sense  by  his  pious  manner 
of  shaking  his  head  and  rolling  his  eyes  toward  the 
ceiling. 

The  church  was  a  square  wooden  edifice,  of  medium 
size,  and  contained  three  stoves  all  burning  brightly. 
Against  this  and  the  drowsy  effect  of  their  long  drive  in 
the  sun  and  wind,  my  two  companions  proved  powerless 
to  struggle. 

Grandpa  looked  furtively  up  at  Grandma,  then  en 
deavoured  to  put  on  as  a  sort  of  apology  for  what  he  felt 
was  inevitably  coming,  a  sanctimonious  expression  which 
was  most  unnatural  to  him,  and  which  soon  faded  away  as 
the  sweet  unconsciousness  of  slumber  overspread  his 
features.  His  head  fell  back  helplessly,  his  mouth 
opened  wide.  He  snored,  but  not  very  loudly.  I  looked 
at  Grandma,  wondering  why  her  vigilance  had  failed  on 
this  occasion,  and  lo  !  her  head  was  falling  peacefully 
from  side  to  side.  She  was  fast  asleep  too.  She  woke  up 


100  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

first,  however,  and  then  Grandpa  was  speedily  and  adroitly 
aroused  by  some  means ,  I  think  it  was  a  pin ;  and 
Grandma  fed  him  with  bits  of  unsweetened  flagroot,  which 
he  munched  penitently,  though  evidently  without  relish, 
until  he  dropped  off  to  sleep  again,  and  she  dropped  off 
to  sleep  again,  and  so  they  continued. 

But  it  always  happened  that  Grandma  woke  up  first. 
And  whereas  Grandpa,  when  the  avenging  pin  pierced 
his  shins,  recovered  himself  with  a  start  and  an  air  of 
guilty  confusion,  Grandma  opened  her  eyes  at  regular  in 
tervals,  with  the  utmost  calm  and  placidity,  as  though  she 
had  merely  been  closing  them  to  engage  in  a  few 
moments  of  silent  prayer. 

Our  class  occupied  a  humble  place  in  the  sanctuary, 
near  the  door.  Behind  the  pew  in  which  Grandma, 
Grandpa  and  I  were  sitting,  there  was  one  more, vacant. 
Presently  the  door  opened,  admitting  a  delightful  waft  of 
fresh  air,  and  some  one  entered  that  pew,  and  bowed  his 
head  forward  on  the  desk  in  a  devotional  attitude. 

After  the  brief  excitement  caused  by  the  advent 
of  this  new  and  very  late  comer  had  subsided, 
the  Sunday  school  resumed  its  former  lethargic 
condition,  and  then  I  heard  my  own  name  whispered 
very  softly  in  my  ear. 

I  had  to  turn  my  head  but  a  little  to  meet  the  depre 
cating,  though  evidently  irreverent  eyes  of  Emily's 
fisherman. 

**  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Hungerford  ?  "  he  murmured 
brightly.  "  Please  don't  consider  me  in  the  light  of 
an  intruder.  I  know  I'm  rather  young  for  the  class, 
to  which  you  are  admitted  by  reason  of  some  extraor 
dinary  acquaintance  with  biblical  lore." 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 


"But  it's  an  excellent  opportunity  lot  you'ttf  a<Mres§ 
the  little  boys  and  girls,"  I  said. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Mr.  Turner,  reddening.  "  I  only 
meant  that  for  a  joke,  you  know." 

Without  pausing  to  reflect  at  all  on  the  moral 
consequences  of  the  act,  I  welcomed  the  appear 
ance  of  this  voluble,  fashionably  dressed  young  man 
among  the  "  ancient  and  fish-like "  odors  of  the 
West  Wallen  meeting  house  with  a  positive  sense  of 
relief. 

"  If  I  might  venture  to  suppose,"  Mr.  Turner  con 
tinued,  whispering,  "  that  I  came  here,  to-day,  clothed,  in 
any  sense,  as  an  angel  of  light  —  and,  indeed,  I  feel 
a  good  deal  like  that  sort  of  thing  to-day  —  so  sweet  are 
the  solaces  of  an  approving  conscience,  and  the  conscious 
ness  of  having  resisted  temptation.  You  see  I  was  — 
yes,  I  was  going  fishing  this  morning,  but  I  saw  Captain 
Spicer  go  by  to  church  —  observe  too,  the  beauty  of 
setting  a  good  example  —  and  I  persuaded  myself  that 
it  was  wrong  to  go  fishing  on  Sunday,  and  so  I  concluded 
to  come  to  church,  too." 

At  the  light  mockery  of  the  fisherman's  tone,  the 
bolder  flattery  of  his  eyes,  I  felt  the  same  quick  flash 
of  resentment  that  his  words  had  occasioned  when 
he  walked  with  me  up  the  lane.  I  turned  my  head  away 
with  the  noble  resolve  to  keep  it  there  persistently. 

Then  I  heard  the  whisper,  "  Miss  Hungerford,  you  are 
driving  me  to  the  last  extreme  of  idol  worship.  I 
shall  keep  on  addressing  my  petitions  to  that  ostrich 
tip  in  your  hat  until  you  give  me  at  least,  the  benefit 
of  your  profile." 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  say  such  irreverent  things 


102 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 


to  me,  'Mtv  Turner,"  I  said,  quite  seriously,  turning, 
and  looking  him  full  in  the  face,  for  an  instant. 

"  Heaven  forbid  ! "  he  replied  in  an  almost  inaudible 
tone.  "And  if  I  could  have  conceived  of  such  a  thing,  I 
would  beg  your  pardon.  You  have  brothers,  Miss 
Hungerford?" 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  nodding  my  head  slightly  with  my 
eyes  fixed  steadfastly  on  the  ancient  instructor  of  our 
class. 

"  How  would  you  feel  if  your  brother  was  off,  alone,  in 
some  wild  country,  in  need  of  good  and  gentle  influences, 
and  some  young  lady  should  treat  him  as  you  are  treating 
me?  Please  turn  your  head  a  little  this  way.  But, 
on  the  whole,  I'm  very  glad  I'm  not  your  brother.  Shall 
I  tell  you  why?  Miss  Hungerford,"  the  fisherman  con 
tinued,  after  a  pause,  "  do  you  know  I've  always  heard 
that  auburn  haired  people  come,  by  right,  into  possession 
of  the  worst  tempers.  Your  hair  is  brown — dark  brown, 
and  mine  is  red,  almost  —  don't  you  think  so  ?  —  And 
yet  my  mind  is  all  peace  within,  and  hope  and  joy,  and 

1  What  is  the  blooming  tincture  of  the  skin, 
To  peace  of  mind  and  purity,  within?  * 

Miss  Hungerford,  it  has  been  full  two  minutes,  by  my 
watch,  since  I  caught  the  last  beam  from  your  eye.  Let 
us  forget  the  idle  wranglings  of  the  hour,  and  compose 
our  minds  to  the  great  subjects  which  agitate  eternity. 
One  of  those  insects  which  infest  ancient  church  edifices 
has  been  hovering  about  Captain  Spicer's  mouth.  It  has 
been  drawn  in.  It  has  disappeared.  Such  are  we, 
hovering  on  the  vortex  of  eternity.  How  calm  and 
andisturbedthe  old  captain's  face!  how  utterly  unconscious 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  103 

of  the  tragedy  just  enacted  !  So  eternity  swallows  us 
and  leaves  no  trace  behind,  and  no  ripple  marks  its 

surface.  How  infer how  more  than  odd  the  old 

captain  looks,  any  way  !  I  say,  she  ought  to  have  touched 
up  his  eye-brows  a  little,  you  know,  while  she  was 
at  the  nefarious  business,  Miss  Hungerford?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  listening  deliberately. 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  the  time  will  ever  come  when 
she  to  whom  I  once  gave  the  love  of  my  young  heart,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing,  you  know,  will  take  me  in  hand,  and 
dye  my  hair,  and  rig  me  up,  and  make  such  an  infernal 
looking  old  guy  of  me?" 

"  1  don't  see  how  you  can  escape,"  I  said.  "  But  you 
won't  care  so  much,  then." 

"No,  that's  true."  Mr.  Turner  sighed  deeply;  "I 
shall  be  old,  then ; 

«  When  I  am  old,  I  shall  not  care 
To  deck  with  flowers  my  faded  hair."' 

The  idea  of  Mr.  Turner's  decking  his  hair  with  flowers 
was  a  specially  entertaining  one  to  me. 

Presently,  he  continued : 

"  To  descend  for  a  moment  to  secular  subjects  —  I've 
got  my  own  horses  here,  now,  Miss  Hungerford.  I 
had  my  man  Bob  bring  them  down  from  Providence. 
They  got  here  last  night,  and  they  're  a  pair  of  spankers, 
too,  if  I  do  say  it  that  should  n't,  as  the  phrase  is.  That 
was  one  of  the  inducements  which  led  me  to  follow  your 
—  to  follow  Captain  Spicer's  example  in  coming  to 
church  this  morning.  And,  now,  I  have  a  calm,  serious, 
and  reasonable  proposal  to  make.  No  doubt,  we  are 
both  familiar  with  the  small  conventionalities  of  life, 


104  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

but  on  such  a  day  as  this,  and  with  such  a  glorious  air 
outside,  and  such  a  unique  framework  of  society  — 
everything  delightfully  pagan  —  scruples  worthy  only  of 
small  consideration  at  any  time,  should  be  thrown  aside. 
I  don't  know  what  perils  you  encountered  on  your  way 
to  church  this  morning,  in  the  canvas-covered  vehicle. 
But,  if  you  will  drive  back  to  Wallencamp  with  me,  I 
promise  to  take  you  there  fleetly  and  safely,  and  you  may 
have  the  consciousness,  besides,  if  you  care  for  it,  that 
you  have  made  the  day  one  of  spiritual  reclamation  to 
an  erring  fellow  creature." 

The  Sunday  school  had  risen  to  its  feet  and  was 
slowly  droning  "yield  not  to  temptation,  etc."  The 
situation  was  odd  enough.  Mr.  Turner's  repressed 
laughing  voice  was  in  my  ear  "will  you  yield?"  and  I 
yielded. 

At  the  close  of  the  Sunday  school,  as  we  were  going 
out  of  the  church,  I  told  Grandma  that  I  should  drive 
home  with  Emily's  fisherman. 

She  drew  me  gravely  to  one  side.  "  We  shall  be  very 
sorry  to  lose  your  company,  teacher,"  she  said,  "only 
we  had  n't  ought  to  lose  no  precious  opportunity,  and  I 
do  hope  as  you  '11  labor  for  that  young  man's  soul."  I 
felt  hopelessly  conscience  stricken. 

We  drove  home  through  "Lost  Cedars"— a  good  many 
miles  out  of  the  ordinary  course — and  I  was  cheerfully 
consenting  to  the  divergence. 

Wild  and  tenantless,  in  the  midst  of  a  wild  and  tenant- 
less   landscape,   Lost   Cedars   wore   that  air  of    lovely, 
though    utter,    desolation,   which    might    easily    have 
suggested  its  name. 
There  was  a  still  unfrozen  lake,  which  the  setting  sun 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  5 

more  like  the  sun  of  an  Italian  winter  than  of  rugged  New 
England,  was  painting  in  gorgeous  colors,  when  we 
reached  the  place. 

"  We  come  fishing  here,  sometimes,"  said  Mr.  Turner ; 
"  I  keep  a  little  boat  down  there  under  the  bush,  and  I 
happen  to  have  the  key  of  the  boat  here  in  my  pocket, 
li  looks  awfully  tempting,  doesn't  it?" 

1  had  always  been  passionately  fond  of  out  door  life,  and 
prided  myself  in  having  acquired  no  little  skill  at  the  oar. 
We  were  out  on  the  painted  lake,  and  I  was  rowing  the 
light  boat,  and  taking  much  selfish  enjoyment  out  of  the 
scenes  around  me,  when  I  became  conscious  that  the 
fisherman  was  leaning  far  forward  from  his  seat  in  the 
boat,  addressing  me  in  a  low  tone. 

"To  discuss  a  topic  appropriate  to  the  day,  Miss 
Hungerford  : —  I  suppose  you  Ve  read  about  that  fellow 
who  was  looking  for  the  pearl  of  great  price,  haven't  you? 
—  that  is,  as  I  take  it,  you  know,  it  was  something  that  was 
going  to  be  of  more  value  to  him  than  anything  else  in 
the  world, —  well,  now,  I  believe  that  every  man  thinks 
he's  going  to  be  lucky  enough  to  fall  in  with  something  of 
that  sort  some  day — don't  you?" 

Mr.  Turner's  tone  was  unusually  serious  and  even 
slightly  embarrassed.  I  looked  up  with  curious  surprise 
from  my  dreamy  observation  of  the  water.  Then  I 
thought  of  what  Grandma  Spicer  had  said  to  me  about 
laboring  for  this  young  man's  spiritual  good. 

"  I  think  we  all  ought  to  seek  it,"  I  observed  tritely, 
giving  a  long  studied  artistic  stroke  to  the  oars.  "  I  don't 
see  why  you  shouldn't  find  it,  I'm  sure — if  you  ask.  I 
wish  that  I  were  good  enough  to  talk  to  you  real  helpfully 
on  tliis  subject." 


106  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

I  was  startled  at  the  inspiriting  effect  my  brief  exhor 
tation  seemed  already  to  have  produced  on  the  soul  of 
Emily's  fisherman. 

"  To  ask  !  is  that  all ! "  he  exclaimed  in  the  same  low 
breath.  And  looking  at  the  glowing,  though  rather  un- 
sanctiried  light  on  his  features,  my  interest  suddenly 
expanded  to  take  in  the  possible  drift  of  his  words.  I 
concluded  that  it  was  time  for  me  to  show  myself 
eminently  discreet;  having  departed  so  far  from  the 
immediate  object  of  my  mission  as  to  spend  a  consider 
able  part  of  the  Sabbath  driving  and  rowing  with  a  strange 
young  man,  miles  from  every  place  of  refuge. 

"  I'm  tired,"  I  said.  "  Please  row  back  now,  I  should 
like  to  go  home." 

I  rose  to  give  Mr.  Turner  my  place  at  the  oar.  He 
held  out  his  hand  to  assist  me,  and  whether  by  any 
malicious  design  of  his  or  not,  at  that  moment  the  boat 
gave  a  sudden  lurch,  and  I  was  precipitated  helplessly 
forward  into  his  arms.  I  felt  his  kiss  burning  on  my  lips. 

With  anger  at  the  fisherman's  unfairness,  and  bitterness 
at  what  I  felt  to  be  the  mortifying  result  of  my  own  folly 
and  indiscretion — "  Oh,"  I  exclaimed,  "I  hate  you!  I 
wish  you  would  never  speak  to  me,  again  !  I  wish  I  had 
fallen  into  the  water." 

The   fisherman   sent  the  boat  leaping  on  with   long 

strokes.     "D n  it!"  he  muttered   softly:     "I  wish 

you  had,  and  I  after  you  ! " 

We  drove  for  several  miles  on  the  way  homeward  in 
silence.  Then  Mr.  Turner  spoke.  I  had  been  meditat 
ing  upon  Ethel  upon  my  determination  to  make  my  life  in 
Wallencamp  one  of  supreme  self-sacrifice  and  devotion 
to  duty,  and  had  concluded,  in  a  deeply  repentant  mind, 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  107 

that  this  unpleasant  incident  at  the  close  of  the  day  was 
only  the  natural  consequence  of  my  error  in  departing 
from  the  prescribed  limits  of  my  self-appointed  task. 

I  felt  that  after  this  experience  it  would  be  unwise  for 
me  further  to  extend  my  mission  work  in  Mr.  Turner's 
behalf. 

So  I  answered  him  but  briefly,  and  in  a  tone  of  martyr- 
like  composure,  which  I  could  not  help  observing  per 
plexed  and  irritated  him  more  than  anger  or  the  most 
frigid  silence  would  have  done. 

1  was  strengthened  in  this  frame  of  mind  when  we 
Darted  at  the  little  gate  in  front  of  the  Ark,  and  Mr. 
Turner  proposed  another  drive  for  the  ensuing  week. 

Then  I  revealed  to  the  fisherman  the  grave  burden  of 
my  soul. 

"  Mr.  Turner ,"  I  said,  "  if  I  had  come  to  Wallencamp 
merely  in  search  of  my  own  pleasure  and  diversion  I 
should  doubtless  find  it  very  easy  to  do  some  things 
which  I  do  not  consider  harmful  in  themselves,  but  which 
it  is  wrong  for  me  to  do,  under  the  circumstances.  I  may 
tell  you  that  I  have  been  very  reckless,  very  thought 
less  in  my  life,  but  I  came  here  resolving  to  devote  my 
self  to  an  earnest,  serious  work.  I  hoped  to  do  these 
people  good.  They  do  seem  to  believe  in  me.  They 
trust  me.  I  can  not  bear  that  they  should  think  me  in 
any  way  unworthy  of  their  trust.  When  you  asked  me  to 
drive,  this  evening, —  it  was  just  as  it  used  to  be — 1  did 
not  think.  You  were  very  kind.  It  was  pleasant  and  I 
thank  you, — but  I  ought  not  to  have  gone — don't  you 
see  ?  I  believe,  now,  that  it  would  have  been  so  much 
better  if  1  had  not." 

"  1  don't  see."  said  Mr.  Turner,  "why  should  you  leave 


108  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

me  altogether?  Don't  I  believe  in  you?  Don't 
I  need  to  be  done  some  good  to  ?  " 

At  this  last  childishly  whimsical  appeal,  I  was  in  sore 
danger  of  being  diverted  from  the  serious  channel  of 
my  thoughts.  Then  the  door  of  the  Ark  softly  opened  a 
little  way,  and  there,  night-capped  in  white,  like  a 
full,  benignant  moon,  appeared  the  head  of  Grandma 
Spicer,  as  she  peered  blindly  out  into  the  night. 

"  Poor  old  soul !  "  I  said.  "  She  has  probably  been 
'waiting  and  watching.'  Don't  you  see  already  one 
of  the  results  of  my  sinning?  Good  night,"  I  said,  ex 
tending  my  hand  to  the  fisherman,  who  had  fixed  on  that 
innocent  and  unconscious  night-cap  a  darkly  withering 
gaze. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  me,"  he  muttered,  turning  abruptly. 
"  Only  take  care  of  this  infernal  old  nest  of  Hoosiers,  and 
respectable  people  may  go  to  the  devil  I" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ETHEL  AND  THE    CRADLEBOW. 

|EACHER'S  got  Eth's  beau  ! " 

"Teacher's  got  Eth's  beau!"  I  heard  it 
whispered  among  the  school  children  Ethel 
heard,  too,  and  paled  a  little,  but  looked  up  at  me  and 
smiled  as  frankly  as  ever. 

Seeing  her  alone  afterwards,  I  took  occasion  to 
remark,  incidentally,  "  how  kind  it  was  of  her  friend, 
Mr.  Turner,  to  bring  me' home  from  church.  Fanny 
was  so  slow  !  And  I  thought  he  was  a  very  pleasant 
young  man,  but  even  the  most  estimable  people,  you 
know,"  I  added,  laughing,  with  an  undertone  of  studied 
significance,  "are  not  just  fitted  to  enjoy  each  other's 
society  always." 

Then  I  blushed  under  the  girl's  clear,  trustful  gaze. 

"  You  don't  think  I  mind  what  the  children  talk  1 " 
she  said. 


110  CAPE  COD  FOLKS. 

* 

Every  day  Ethel  appealed  more  and  more,  uncon 
sciously,  to  what  was  most  generous  and  grave  and  heed 
ful  in  my  nature.  She  seemed  to  be  demanding  of  me, 
with  mute,  gentle  importunity  to  make  real  my  ideal 
of  life,  to  be  what  I  knew  she  believed  me  to  be.  Her 
faith  in  my  superior  wisdom  and  goodness,  her  slow, 
timid  way  of  confiding  in  me,  with  tears  and  blushes, 
even ;  it  was  all  very  flattering,  very  captivating  to 
one  who  had  but  so  lately  risen  to  occupy  the  pedestal  of 
a  moral  instructress,  and  "my  child,"  "my  dear  child," 
I  said  to  her  in  many  private  discourses,  with  more 
than  the  tranquil  grace  and  dignity  with  which  such  terms 
had  been  applied  to  me,  only  a  year  before,  by  the  august 
principal  of  Mt.  B Seminary. 

Ethel  read  my  books,  and  I  drew  her  out  to  talk 
with  me  about  them.  She  prepared  her  lessons,  with  me, 
out  of  school.  She  knew  that  she  might  come  whenever 
she  chose  to  my  little  room,  at  the  Ark,  whicn  the 
chimney  kept  comfortably  warm,  and  often  I  heard 
her  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  and  her  gentle  knock  at  the 
door. 

If  I  was  troubled  or  perplexed  on  any  account, 
Ethel  always  seemed  to  understand  in  that  quiet, 
unobtrusive  way  of  hers,  and  followed  my  movements 
with  a  grave,  restful  sympathy  in  her  eyes.  On  several 
occasions  I  had  asked  her,  playfully,  to  walk  up  the  lane 
with  me,  after  school.  So  it  became  a  matter  of  course, 
that  she  should  wait  for  me.  Often  we  took  longer  walks, 
for  it  was  an  "  open  winter,"  with  only  one  or  two 
light  falls  of  snow. 

Then  I  believed  the  "  Tempter  "  came  to  me,  in  the 
form  of  another  invitation  to  drive,  from  Mr.  Turner. 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  Ill 

Occupied  with  my  duties  in  the  school-room,  one 
afternoon,  I  was  startled  to  observe  these  charatlcrs 
as  suddenly  and  mysteriously  raised  as  if  by  the  unseen 
hand  of  a  modern  sibyl  on  the  black-board  : 

"teecher's  Bo  is  a  setting  On  the  Fens." 

Involuntarily  raising  my  eyes  to  the  window,  I  was 
unable  to  disco\  er  on  the  fence  opposite,  anything  of  the 
nature  indicated  in  those  words.  I  concluded  that  the 
whole  was  to  be  taken  as  one  of  those  deeply  allegorical 
expressions  in  which  the  Wallencamp  tongue  abounded. 

Shortly  afterward,  a  boy  who  had  been  playing  truant 
and  the  Jews'  harp  at  the  same  time,  in  a  subdued  and 
melancholy  way  under  the  window,  and  who  had,  doubt 
less,  been  bribed  to  undertake  his  present  commission 
through  some  extraordinary  means,  entered  the  school 
room,  and  laid  on  my  desk  a  note  from  the  auburn-haired 
fisherman.  It  was  hastily  scrawled  in  lead  pencil,  on 
a  leaf  torn  from  a  memorandum. 

The  fisherman  confessed  to  all  the  meekness  and  long 
suffering,  without  the  cheerful  intrepidity  of  Mary's  little 
lamb  !  He  would  do  all  his  waiting  outside.  Mr.  Levi 
was  down  from  West  Wallen  to-day,  and  said  that  he 
had  heard  somebody  say  that  there  were  four  letters  came 
for  the  teacher  in  last  night's  mail.  Would  I  like  to 
drive  over  to  Wrest  Wallen  and  get  them  ?  The  fisherman 
did  not  believe  that  I  had  been  in  earnest  in  the  prudish 
and  unreasonable  notions  I  had  propounded  when  he 
left  me  the  other  evening. 

"  Prudish  !  "  In  my  newly  acquired  elevation  of  mind, 
I  hugged  the  term  with  a  deep,  intense,  and  mysterious 
delight.  Oh,  if  my  mother  could  only  know — if  my  elder 
sister  could  only  know  that  I  had  actually  been  accused 


112  CAPE     COD    FOLKS. 

of  pmdishness  !  It  was  in  the  glow  and  inspiration  of  this 
idea  that  I  indited  the  answer  to  Mr.  Turner's  missive  :  — 
"  why  would  he  make  it  unpleasant  and  disagreeable  for 
me  to  do  what  seemed  to  me  so  plainly  my  duty?" — and 
despatched  the  same  by  the  pensive  and  unpunished 
truant,  who  was  soon  heard  again  revelling  in  the 
stolen  sweets  of  his  Jews'  harp  beneath  the  window. 

After  this  I  had  no  further  intercourse  with  the  fisher 
man  for  some  days.  If  I  chanced  to  meet  him  in  the 
lane,  Ethel  was  always  with  me.  He  came  one  evening 
to  the  Ark.  The  young  people  were  there,  singing. 

Then  I  heard,  from  time  to  time,  of  his  taking  Etheito 
drive,  and  congratulated  myself  that  through  my  com 
posed  wisdom  and  forethought,  the  little  world  of  Wallen- 
camp  was  destined  to  move  very  smoothly,  on  the 
whole. 

"  I  wonder  why  Mr.  Turner  don't  go  home,"  observed 
Grandma  Spicer  complacently,  on  one  of  those  rare 
occasions  when  the  Spicer  family  circle  held  quiet 
possession  of  the  Ark  before  the  songful  company  had 
arrived.  "  He  did  n't  use  to  stay  but  a  week  or  two  at  a 
time,  and  all  the  rest  o'  the  fishermen  have  been  gone 
some  time,  now ;  and  he  keeps  them  horses  down  here, 
and  goes  loungin'  around  with  no  more  object  than 
a  butterfly  in  December." 

"  I  tell  ye  he's  a  makin'  up  to  Eth."  said  Grandpa 
Spicer,  with  the  knowing  air  of  an  old  man  accustomed 
to  fathom  mysteries  of  this  peculiar  nature. 

A  spark  shot  out  of  Abagail's  great,  black  eyes.  Then 
she  laughed  unpleasantly.  "There's  something  in 
the  wind  besides  Eth."  said  she. 

"  Why,  I  don't  know,"  said  Grandma,  "He  don't  hang 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  113 

around  there  very  much,  may  be,  but  they  say  he  takes 
her  to  ride,  and,  I'm  sure,  he  don't  wait  on  nobody  else. 
But  I  should  think,  if  he  was  a  goin'  to  speak  out,  he'd 
ought  to  do  it,  and  not  waste  his  time  a  keepin'  a 
puttin'  it  off.  Why,  my  fust  husband  was  n't  but  a  week 
makin'  up  his  mind,  and  pa,"  she  continued,  referring 
openly  to  Grandpa  Spicer,  "  he  wan't  quite  so  out-spoken, 
to  be  sure ;  but  he  came  around  to  it  in  the  course  of  a 
month  or  two,  and  kind  o'  beat  around  the  bush  then, 
and  wanted  to  know  what  I  thought  on't,  and — wall, 
I  told  him  '  yes,'  —  I  did  n't  see  no  use  in  bein'  squeamish 
so  long  as  I'd  once  made  up  my  mind  to  it." 

"  I  asked  ye  as  soon  as  I  could  !  "  exclaimed  Grandpa, 
bristling  on  the  defensive.  "  I  wanted  to  be  sure  o' 
gittin'  a  house,  fust." 

"  There  !  "  said  Abagail  briskly,  putting  down  her  foot, 
and  tossing  her  head  as  she  addressed  the  old  couple. 
"  Be  good,  children  !  Be  good  !  —  and,  now,  do  you 
mark  my  words,  it  isn't  Ethel  Kent  that  Eliot  Turner  is 
hanging  around  here  for.  There's  some  folks  to  be 
made  up  to,  and  there's  some  folks,  jest  as  good,  to 
be  stepped  on.  And  Eliot  Turner  —what  does  he 
think  of  Wallencamp  folks,  any  way?  He  wouldn't 
take  the  trouble  to  kick  'em  out  of  his  road ;  he'd 
jest  step  on  'em,  and  he's  steppin'  on  Eth.  Kent.  He 
don't  care  enough  about  her  to  let  her. alone." 

"  Wall,  I  —  don't—  know  ! "  said  Grandma.  "  What's 
he  stayin'  for,  then?" 

"  Staying  !  Lord,  ma  !  "  said  Abagail  sharply,  with 
a  strange  cold  glitter  in  her  eye.  "  How  do  I  know  what 
he's  stayin'  for?  Oh,"  she  added,  in  a  tone  of  lighter 
bitterness,  "It's  a  mild  winter  and  open  roads.  He's 


Ill  CAPE   *COD    FOLKS. 

I 

sketching  they  say,  and  exploring  the  Cape.  Let  him 
explore  from  one  end  to  the  other,  he  won't  find  such 
another  fool  as  himself." 

"We   can't   help   nothin'   by  talkin'   that  way,"  said 
Grandma  Spicer,  a  little  pale,  though  calmly  cognizant  of 
Abagail's  emotion. 

"  You  know  I  had  an  experience  of  my  own,  once,  ma*," 
said  Abagail ,  terribly  white  about  the  lips. 

"I  wouldn't  rake  up  old  wounds,  daughter."  There 
was  nothing  unfeeling  in  Grandma  Spicer's  tone. 

The  daughter  shut  her  lips  together  tightly,  as  though 
more  than  she  had  intended  to  reveal  had  already 
escaped  them,  and  applied  herself  desperately  to  her 
sewing. 

I  fancied  that  I  had  detected  a  personally  aggressive 
quality  in  Abagail's  indignant  tone. 

"  I  don't  see  why  we  should  feel  that  way  about  Ethel," 
I  said.  .  "  The  more  one  gets  acquainted  with  her, 
the  more  lovable  and  worthy  of  respect  she  seems.  I 
knew  a  great  many  girls,  at  school  —  girls  with  every 
advantage  of  wealth  and  culture,  too,  who  had  not  half  of 
Ethel's  grace  and  refinement,  nor  a  tenth  part  of  her 
beauty  ! " 

Abagail  said  nothing,  bending  to  her  work  with 
the  same  bitter  compression  of  the  lips. 

"  It's  right  you  should  stand  up  for  her,  teacher,"  said 
Grandma  Spicer,  pleasantly.  "  Miss  Taite,  she  begun  by 
makin'  a  kind  o'  pet  o'  her,  but  I  don't  think  Ethel 
ever  set  her  heart  on  her  as  she  lias  on  you,  an<! 
it's  easy  to  see  you've  took  lots  o*  pains  with  her.  She's 
a  gittin'  them  same  kind  o'  sorter  interestin'  high  flowed 
ways  —  why,  she  used  to  be  jest  like  the  rest  of  'em 


CAPE     COD     FOLKS. 

jest  sich  a  rompin',  roarin'  thing  as  Drussilly  Kent 
is  now." 

"  Goodness  gracious,  ma ! "  Abagail  put  in  again, 
sharply.  "  What  good  is  it  going  to  do  Eth.  Kent  to  put 
Dn  airs?  Better  stick  to  her  own  ways,  and  her  own 
folks,  she'll  find  they'll  stand  by  her  best  in  the  end,  I 
guess,  than  to  be  fillin'  her  head  with  notions  to  hurt  her 
feelin's  over  by  and  by.  She's  a  fool,  I  think,  for  treatin' 
George  Olver  as  she  does.  He's  worth  a  dozen  Eliot 
Turners,  if  his  coat  don't  set  quite  so  fine,  and  would  work 
his  fingers  off  to  suit  her  if  she'd  only  settle  down  to  him, 
and  be  sensible." 

"Wall,"  said  Grandma  Spicer,  in  a  tone  that  was 
a  curious  contrast  to  Abagail's,  "  our  feelin's  won't  always 
go  as  we'd  ought  to  have  em.  daughter." 

"  No,  they  won't !  "  Abagail  snapped  out  excitedly, 
"but,  ma,  you  know  I'm  in  the  right  of  it  just  as 
well  as  I  do,  and  there's  Benney  Leonard's  got  to 
dreamin'  and  moonin'  around  in  the  same  way.  Took 
it  into  his  head  he  wanted  to  get  an  education — well, 
what  has  n't  he  took  into  his  head  !  So  he  must  begin 
recitin'  to  teacher.  Well,  he  had  in  his  mind  to  study  I 
don't  doubt,  to  begin  with,  and  used  to  come  two 
or  three  times  a  week,  and  rattle  off  a  string,  and, 
now  he's  here  every  day  of  his  life,  and,  if  there's 
any  reciting  going  on,  I  don't  hear  it  —  not  that  I 
want  to  meddle  with  other  folk's  business,  but  I've  known 
those  boys  a  good  many  years,  and  I  hate  to  see  anybody 
hurt  and  run  over,  even  if  they  be  young  and  ignorant,  and 
making  fools  of  themselves.  Some  folks  are  none  too 
good,  I  think,  for  all  their  airs,  and  had  better  look  out 
to  see  where  they're  going  !  " 


116  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"Why,  thar,  Abagail  !"  said  Grandma  with  a  decided 
touch  of  disapproval  in  her  voice.  "  R'a'ly,  seems  to 
me  you  're  kind  o'  out.  I'm  sure  Benney  Leonard  seems 
to  be  a  gittin'  along  finely  with  his  Latin  and  Algibbery  — 
I'm  sure,  I've  heard  a  lot  of  it,  when  I've  been  goin' 
through  the  room,  if  you  ain't ;  and  if  he's  took  it 
into  his  head  to  git  book  larnin',  and  maybe  scratch 
enough  together  to  go  away  somewheres  to  school, 
why  I'm  sure,  there's  older  boys  than  him,  and  not 
so  bright,  have  ketched  up  if  they  set  their  minds 
to  it,  and  as  for  our  teacher  —  Abagail  !  " 

"  Oh,  I've  no  doubt  but  what  Miss  Hungerford  meant 
kindly,"  said  Abagail  with  the  lightness  she  could 
so  suddenly  assume.  "  It's  a  mighty  queer  world,  that's 
all !  "  she  added  presently,  rising  and  putting  on  her 
bonnet,  "and  managed  very  queerly,  for  I  suppose  it 
is  managed.  I'm  going  out,  ma.  Those  children  have 
split  my  head  with  their  noise  to-day,  and  I  promised 
Patty  I'd  come  in  and  sit  awhile.  Now,  if  I've  been 
cross  and  crazy,  don't  you  and  teacher  talk  me  over,"  she 
said,  looking  back  and  trying  hard  to  smile  —  and  she  did 
look  very  tired  and  white,  as  though  she  had  been 
suffering — "and  if  those  children  wake  up  and  begin 
to  squall  " —  with  a  glance  towards  the  little  bed-room  — 
"  Let  'em  squall.  If  I've  wished  it  once  to-day,  I  have  a 
hundred  times — that  they  was  the  other  side  of  sunset !  " 

"  I  wish  you'd  step  into  Lihu's  —  such  a  poor,  sufferin' 
creetur  as  he  is — with  these,"  said  Grandma,  appearing 
from  the  pantry  with  some  eggs  in  her  apron.  "  I  wish 
you  could  take  the  consolations  of  religion  with  you, 
Abagail  ,"  she  continued  gravely,  as  Mrs.  Ithamer  wau 
closing  the  door. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  117 

"  Lord,  ma !  my  pocket's  full  now !  "  exclaimed 
Abagail  .  "  Besides,  they  might  break  the  eggs  !  "  And 
the  latch  fell  down  with  a  click. 

"  I  wish  Abagail  was  a  believer,"  Grandma  sighed, 
purposely  rattling  about  the  cover  of  the  stove  to  wake  up 
Grandpa,  who  had  fallen  asleep  in  his  chair. 

Grandpa  looked  at  me,  and  smiled  feebly,  then  roused 
himself  to  meet  this  supposed  challenge  like  a  man. 

"Believer,  ma?"  said  he,  "why  ain't  I  a  believer? 
As  old  Cap'n  Gates  said  to  me  on  his  last  voyage  " 
—  Grandpa  yawned  alarmingly  (poor  old  man  !  he  was 
but  half  awake),  as  this  unlucky  reminiscence  of  his  sea 
faring  life  flitted  through  his  brain  —  "  says  he,  '  I  read  my 
almanick  and  my  bible,  both,  Hoggarty'  "  says  he  "  1  read 
'em  both,  and  I  believe  there's  a  great  deal  o'  truth  in 
both  on  'em." 

"  Thar,  pa  ! "  said  Grandma,  solemnly,  "  you'd  letter 
go  to  sleep  !  you'd  better  close  your  eyes,  Hoggarty 
Spicer  !  What  if  you  should  never  open  'em  again  on 
earthly  scenes,  and  them  words  on  your  lips, — and  you  a 
perfessor ! " 

Grandpa  scratched  his  head  in  drowsy  bewilderment, 
passed  his  hand  once  or  twice  over  the  coarse  stubble  on 
his  face,  and  again  committed  himself  helplessly  to  the 
sweet  obliviousness  of  slumber. 

I  drew  my  chair  up  confidentially  close  to  Grandma 
Spicer's  and  rested  my  arms  on  the  table  as  I  looked  into 
her  face. 

"Grandma!"  I  said,  for  I  knew  that  she  was  better 
pleased  to  have  me  call  her  that,  "  I  begin  to  think  that  I 
ought  never  to  have  come  to  Wallencamp  on  a  mission, 
that  perhaps  it  would  be  just  as  well,  if  i  had  never  come 


118  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

to  Wallencamp  at  all,  I  mean.  I  did  n't  think.  At  first, 
it  seemed  more  than  anything  else,  like  something  very 
new  to  entertain  myself  with.  I  did  n't  think  enough  of 
the  responsibility.  Then,  perhaps  I  thought  too  much  of 
it.  1  don't  know.  I  wish  I  were  out  of  it  all.  Grand 
ma,  I  never  tried  to  do  the  right  thing  so  hard  before  in 
my  life.  I  never  worked  so  hard  before  —  and  I  don't 
mind  that ;  but  I  meant  it  all  for  the  best,  and  its  no  use, 
its  just  like  all  the  rest.  I'm  tired.  I  wish  I  were  out  of 
it." 

"  Wall,  thar  now,  darlin',"  said  Grandma,  employing  to 
the  full  her  tone  of  infinite  consolation.  "  You  ain't 
the  first  one  as  mistook  a  stump  for  a  livin'  creetur  in  the 
night,  and  don't  you  talk  about  givin'  up  nor  nothin'  like 
it,  darlin',  for  we  could  n't  do  without  you  noways  —  nor 
you  without  us,  for  yet  a  while  I'm  thinkin',  though  it  does 
seem  strange  —  and  never  you  mind  one  straw  for  what 
Abagail  said,  for  she  was  kind  o'  out  to-night,  anyway, 
not  having  got  no  letter  from  Ithamer  I  suppose.  But 
then,  she  ought  not  to  feel  so.  Why  there  was  time  and 
time  agin  that  I  did  n't  git  no  letter  from  Hoggarty  Spicer 
when  he  was  voyaging  and  to  be  sure,  they  was  n't  much 
better  than  nothin'  when  they  did  come,  for  pa" — Grand 
ma  cast  a  calmly  comprehensive  glance  at  her  unconscious 
mate  —  "  pa  was  a  man  that  had  a  great  many  idees  in 
general,  but,  when  he  set  down  to  write  a  letter,  somehow 
he  seemed  to  consider  that  it  was  n't  no  place  for  idees,  a 
letter  was  n't  —  seemed  as  though  he  managed  a'most  a 
purpose  not  to  get  none  in." 

"  Grandma,"  I  said,  leaning  forward,  laughing,  and 
folding  my  hands  in  her  lap,  "you're  the  best  comforter  I 
know  of." 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  119 

"  Wall,  thar,"  said  she,  "  it's  a  good  deal  in  feelin's,  and 
Abagail  ain't  r'al  well,  so  she  kind  o'  allows  'em  to  over 
come  her  sometimes." 

"And  what  did  she  mean  by  saying  that  about  Ethel?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Oh,  she  just  meant  girls  will  be  girls,  that's  all !  "  re 
plied  Grandma,  "  why  mercy  !  I  know  all  about  that.  I 
don't  feel  like  nothin'  much  more  than  a  girl  myself,  half 
the  time  ;  and  we  all  have  to  have  our  experiences,  to  be 
sure.  They  ain't  nobody  else  can  wear  'em  for  us,  but, 
dear  me  !  the  Lord  ain't  goin'  to  let  our  experiences  hurt 
us,  they're  for  our  betterin'." 

"And  Benney,  Grandma?"  I  said,  "what  did  she 
mean  about  him  ?  " 

"Oh,  she  just  meant  boys  will  be  boys,  that's  all  — 
especially  big  ones  —  but,  thar  !  I've  known  'em  to  get 
over  it  a  hundred  times  and  not  hurt  'em  none.  If  you'r 
always  lookin'  at  human  natur'  on  the  dark  side,  it  seems 
kind  o'  desp'rit.  My  first  husband,  he  was  n't  a  fretful 
man,  but,  he  was  always  viewin'  the  dark  side  o'  things. 
I  suppose  one  reason  was  he  did  n't  have  no  father  nor 
mother,  and  so  he  kind  o'  begun  life  as  a  took-in  boy,  but 
Polios  Slocum,  he  done  very  well  by  him,  for  he  had  n't 
no  children  of  his  own,  but  his  brother —  that  was  Daniel 
Slocum  —  he  had  six.  There  was  two  boys  and  four  girls. 
Mary  she  came  fust.  She  was  born  February  nineteenth." 

I  was  sorry  that  Grandma's  thoughts  had  drifted  into 
this  hopeless  and  interminable  channel. 

I  had  considered  carefully  what  Abagail  nad  said,  and 
determined  on  a  little  new  advice  for  my  friend,  Ethel. 
So  the  next  time  we  were  alone  in  my  room  together,  I 
directed  the  conversation  with  a  view  to  this  end : 


120  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  And  I  would  n't  trust  any  one,  my  dear,"  I  said  with 
cheerful  earnestness,  "  then  if  people  prove  true,  why, 
it's  all  the  more  delightful;  and  if  not,  one  isn't  dis 
appointed,  so  you  can  hold  the  scales  quite  indifferently 
in  your  own  hand,  and  are  always  master  of  the 
situation.  Oh,  I  would  n't  trust  people  !  It  would 
be  very  nice  if  this  were  the  sort  of  world  that 
you  could  do  it  in,  but  it  isn't.  It's  a  very  deceitful 
world." 

"  But  I  can  trust  you,  can't  I?"  Ethel  held  me  with 
her  gravely  questioning  eyes. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know."  I  began  with  the  determination 
to  be  severely  true  to  my  text,  but  the  look  in  Ethel's 
eyes  hurt  me. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  little  girl,"  I  continued,  falling  into  the  half 
tender,  half  playful  tone  that  it  was  always  easiest  to 
assume  with  her,  "  of  course,  you  must  trust  me ! 
Have  n't  I  been  a  good  teacher  to  you,  so  far?"  And  I 
sought  by  smiling  in  the  girl's  face,  to  chase  the  grieved 
expression  away  from  it.  "  What  I  meant  was  that  I 
wouldn't  trust  people  generally,  because  it's  a  selfish 
world,  and  such  is  the  depravity  of  the  human  mind  that 
if  it  appears  at  all  convenient,  we  are  apt,  you  know, 
to  sacrifice  other  people  to  our  own  interests ;  so,  with 
all  the  little  kindnesses  and  politenesses  which  are 
current  in  society,  it  is  still  the  common  practise — and 
it  is  best  that  it  should  be  so — to  keep,  in  the  main, 
a  sharp  look  out  for  '  Number  One  ! ' " 

Having  proceeded  so  far,  it  occurred  to  me  that  the 
occasion  was  favorable  for  the  discharge  of  another  duty 
which  I  had  been  meditating  in  regard  to  Ethel 

"  You  are  what  Grandma  Spicer  calls  a  believer,  are  you 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  121 

not,  dear?"  I- said,  with  the  same  composedly  dictatorial 
manner,  "  in  distinction  from  a  professor,  I  mean." 

Ethel  gave  a  little  gasp,  and  turned  her  head  away,  for 
an  instant.  When  she  looked  back,  there  were  tears 
of  distress  in  her  eyes. 

I  felt  a  vague  wonder  and  regret. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  thought,  once  — I  wanted  — I 
hoped " 

"  Why,  child  !  "  I  hastened  to  exclaim.  "  I  did  n't  ask 
you  because  I  had  any  reason  to  doubt  that  you  were 
one  —  quite  the  contrary  —  but  simply  for  this.  It  seems 
to  me  it  would  be  such  a  desirable  thing  for  you,  situated 
as  you  are,  here,  with  so  few  surroundings  of  a  refining 
and  elevating  nature,  if  you  could  attach  yourself,  if 
it  were  merely  for  a  feeling  of  fellowship  and  sympathy  — 
for  of  course,  you  could  not  attend,  often  —  to  some 
simple  Orthodox  body  of  believers  —  like  the  Methodist 
church  at  West  VVallen  for  instance.  It  seems  to  me, 
that,  in  your  case,  believing  simply  and  unquestionably, 
as  I  have  no  doubt  you  do,  it  would  be  a  sort  of  assurance, 
a  sort  of  continual  rest  and  support  to  you.  It  would  be 
a  great  relief  to  me  if  I  felt  that  you  were  so  guarded. 
Not  that  I  consider  it  essential  at  all ;  to  some  people,  in 
deed,  of  a  deeply  thoughtful  and  inquisitive  mind,  such  a 
course  would  appear  impossible  You  have  never  troubled 
yourself,  Ethel,"  I  continued,  in  a  tone  of  reassuring  light 
ness,  "you  have  never  troubled  yourself  with  doubts 
and  speculations  on  religious  subjects  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  Ethel  replied,  the  look  ol  perplexity 
and  distress  deepening  in  her  eyes. 

"  Why  should  you  ?  "  I  murmured,  softly  stroking  her 
hair,    "He  carries  the  lambs  in  His  bosom."      I  had 


122  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

been  little  in  the  habit  of  quoting  scripture  —  the  words 
coming  to  mind,  struck  me  as  particularly  beautiful 
and  applicable  on  this  occasion,  "  and  so  what  I  have 
suggested,  would  be  the  easiest,  and  most  natural  thing 
in  the  world  for  you  to  do.  I  suppose  it  might  be  neces 
sary  for  you  to  have  come  to  some  conclusion  in  regard  to 
the  first  principles  of  Theology,  but  probably  you  have 
already  satisfied  yourself  as  to  these  in  your  own  mind." 

Ethel  looked  little  like  one  who  had  arrived  at  the 
calm  plane  of  philosophical  conclusion  of  any  sort. 

"  I  don't  knew,"  she  gasped. 

"  Well,  take  the  Trinity,  for  instance,"  I  continued,  in  a 
tone  highly  suggestive  of  calm  and  supreme  forbearance 
with  helpless  ignorance.  "  Probably  you  believe  in  the 
Trinity?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Ethel.  "  I  don't  know  what 
it  means.  Nobody  ever  told  me ;  nobody  ever  talked 
to  me  about  those  things  before." 

"  It's  simply,"  I  said,  "  a  term  implying  the  existence 
of  three  persons  in  the  God-head.  So,  the  Trinitarians 
are  distinguished  from  the  Unitarians  who  believe  that  it 
consists  of  one.  I'm  not  particularly  informed  as  to  the 
Methodist  credentials  of  faith.  You  will  always  hear 
that  they  believe  that  salvation  is  free  to  all  who  will 
accept  of  it.  Some  people  believe  that  man  is  a  free 
agent,  and  may  accept  or  refuse  the  means  of  grace, 
and  if  he  refuses,  is  eternally  lost.  And  then,  again, 
there  are  the  Universalists,  who  believe  that  all  will  be 
eventually  saved.  There  is  the  Calvinistic  element  — 
those  who  believe  in  predestination  —  that  is " 

Ethel  had  laid  her  bead  down  on  the  bed,  and  was 
quietly  sobbing. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  123 

"  My  poor  child,"  I  exclaimed,  with  swift  compassion, 
"don't  think  anything  more  about  what  I  have  said 
to  you.  Let  it  go.  It  is  n't  vital." 

"You  don't  hate  me  for  not  knowing  anything?" 
sobbed  Ethel.  "  Nobody  ever  tried  to  have  me  under 
stand,  before." 

11  You  know  enough ;  quite  enough,  dear  !  "  I  remarked 
hastily,  producing  from  my  trunk  a  quantity  of  illustrated 
magazines.  These  we  looked  over  together,  and  when 
Ethel  went  away,  the  tears  were  dried  in  her  eyes,  and 
she  was  laughing  as  merrily  as  ever. 

With  the  severely  implied  reproach  of  Abagail  's  words 
still  in  my  mind,  I  took  pains  to  assume  toward  Benney 
Leonard  a  more  elder-sisterly  air  even  than  before. 

It  was  true,  I  felt  that  I  had  been  unjustly  stung,  having, 
amid  the  press  of  other  duties,  undertaken  the  advance 
ment  of  that  bright  youth,  from  motives,  I  believed,  of 
an  ideal  and  disinterested  nature.  It  was  also  true,  that, 
after  the  first  enthusiasm  with  respect  to  his  lessons  had 
passed  away,  as  well  as  the  natural  diffidence  he  had  at 
first  felt  in  my  presence,  Benney  Leonard,  though 
punctual  to  the  hour  of  recitation,  had  gradually 
fallen  into  a  habit  of  more  lively  and  discursive  inquiry 
than  that  furnished  within  the  dull  range  of  his  text  books. 
He  had  a  singularly  fearless  manner  of  challenging  the 
inexplicable  in  thought  and  life,  with  a  light  conversa 
tional  flow  of  much  brilliancy.  Moreover,  he  was  a 
delightful  dreamer. 

We  had  our  recitation,  for  quiet,  in  one  of  Grandma's 
gloomy  and  mysterious  keepin'-rooms.  The  only  object 
inviting  to  sedentary  posture  in  this  room,  was  Grandpa's 
huge  "  chist,"  which  occupied  a  position  "  alongside  " 


124  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

the  East  window.  Those  sacred  window  curtains,  of 
green  paper,  flowered  with  crimson  roses,  were  never 
rolled  up  ;  but  as  the  light  strayed  in  at  one  side,  and  fell 
on  the  Cradlebow's  fine  head,  often  I  reflected  that 
under  certain  other  conditions  of  life,  meaning  con 
ditions  more  favorable  to  Benney  Leonard,  I  might  have 
regarded  him  very  tenderly,  and  invested  the  strength  and 
beauty  of  his  young  manhood  with  heroic  meaning. 

As  it  \vas,  I  assumed  that  I  was  years  beyond  him 
in  the  gravest  respects.  And  if  there  was  any  truth  in 
what  Abagail  had  intimated,  possibly  I  had  been  at  fault 
for  not  impressing  this  fact  more  deeply  on  his  mind. 

"  So  you  are  getting  sadly  behindhand  with  your  lessons, 
Benney,"  I  said.  "  I  wish  you  would  make  a  brave 
effort  to  catch  up.  There  is  no  true  attainment  to  be 
reached  without  a  corresponding  degree  of  effort  —  of 
perseverance." 

I  sp^ke  with  a  serious  and  gracious  air,  as  though  this 
sentiment,  gleaned  from  a  profound  experience,  had 
occurred  to  me  as  an  idea  peculiarly  my  own. 

"  Never  mind  the  lessons  ! "  replied  my  audacious 
pupil,  brightly.  "Teacher,"  he  added  presently,  having 
fallen  into  a  gently  musing  attitude,  "how  shiny  those 
crimples  in  your  hair  look,  with  that  streak  of  sun  lighting 
on  'em  ! " 

"  Benney/'  said  I,  very  gravely,  "you  ought  not  to 
talk  to  me  about  my  hair.  Suppose  we  give  our  attention 
to  these  books.  Now  you  were  getting  along  so  fast,  I'm 
very  sorry ," 

"  Do  you  think  I'm  to  blame,  teacher ! "  exclaimed 
Benney  earnestly.  "  There  was  n't  a  stick  of  wood  to  be 
had  in  our  house  this  morning  !  And  I've  had  to  be  off, 


CAPE     COD     FOLKS.  125 

all  day,  chopping,  with  Scudder — you  ought  to  have  seen 
the  black  snake  we  killed  tkis  morning.  It  was  six  feet 
long.  If  you  don't  believe  it,  Scudder's  got  the  carcass. 
It  was  lying  all  curled  up  in  the  bushes,  with  its  head  up 
so  — <  yOU  watch  him,  Ben,'  says  Scudder,  '  and  I  '11  run 
and  get  the  axe  ! '  I  could  n't  help  laughing.  The  axe 
was  over  the  other  side  of  the  bog,  and  the  snake  began 
to  stretch  himself  out  .and  slide  along.  I  brought  my 
boot-heel  down  once  or  twice  on  his  head,  about  as  quick 
and  strong  as  I  could  make  it.  I  killed  him.  It's  a  good 
sign  to  kill  a  snake,  teacher.  It's  a  good  sign  to  dream 
of  killing  one  ;  but  you  come  across  one  so,  accidentally, 
and  kill  it,  and  it's  sure  to  bring  good  luck,  Granny  says." 

"  That's  more  significant  than  a  great  many  of  your 
signs  and  symbols,"  I  said.  "  That  means  that  you  will 
slay  the  tempter  in  your  path,  and  be  successful  in  over 
coming  difficulties.  In  short,  it  means  that  whatever 
there  has  been  to  divert  you,  you  are  coming  back  to  the 
resolve  to  study  and  improve  yourself,  to  be  al!  the 
stronger  for  having  a  few  chance  obstacles  to  dispose  of." 

Benney's  head  began  to  drop  a  little.  I  thought  it 
was  time  that  the  melancholy  atmosphere  of  the  room 
should  have  begun  to  exercise  its  usual  depressive 
effect  on  his  spirits. 

"  You  think  I  don't  like  the  books,  teacher,"  he  said. 
"I  do,  but  there's  most  always  something  else  to  be 
doing.  Father's  lame.  He  can't  do  any  work,  and 
there's  the  rest  to  take  care  of.  First,  I  sat  up  nights  to 
study,  then  I  got  so  sleepy  I  couldn't.  But,  I'd  got  so 
in  the  habit  of  coming  in  to  talk  a  little  while  after  you 
got  home  from  school,  teacher,  that  I  —  I  forgot  to  forget 
it.  Have  I  been  a  great  bother  to  you  ?  You've  been 


126  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

real  good.  I  don't  want  you  to  think  I  forget  that.  And 
if  I'd  had  a  chance  at  the  books  early,  or  to  push  right 
along  with  'em  now,  I  might  make  out  something  in  that 
line." 

Benney  did  not  speak  complainingly,  nor  even  with 
hopeless  regret.  He  rose  and  stretched  himself,  with 
solemn  satisfaction,  to  the  extent  of  his  goodly  propor 
tions. 

"  But,  I'm  a  man  now,  teacher,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  be 
twenty  in  June,  and  life  is  short.  A  man  has  n't  got  time 
for  everything.  He  'd  be  a  fool  to  waste  it  crying  for 
what  he  did  n't  happen  to  have.  He  'd  better  push  along 
and  work  for  the  best.  I  meant  to  tell  you.  I'm  going 
to  sea,  teacher  !  I'm  going  trading.  I  was  down  to  New 
Bedford,  to  see  Captain  Sparhauk  yesterday,  for  I  was 
out  with  him  once  before,  and  got  a  good  deal  of  the 
hang  of  the  business  then,  and  he  offered  me  a  place  on 
his  ship  next  time  he  sails." 

Benney  stood  with  flushed  face,  regarding  me  with  a 
bright  restless  look  of  inquiry  in  his  eyes. 

"  Are  you  going  away,  really,  Benney  ?  I'm  very 
sorry  !"  I  said. 

"  You  don't  care  !  what  do  you  care?"  he  exclaimed 
almost  rudely,  with  an  unnatural  touch  of  hardness  in  his 
laugh.  "  It's  the  way  you  talk  to  all  the  rest.  A  fellow 
might  get  to  thinking  too  much  about  it.  A  fellow  might 
get  to  caring — if  he  believed  it — I  don't." 

"  What  makes  you  think  I  should  n't  care  if  you  were 
going  away?"  I  continued,  with  the  dispassionately  gentle 
and  reproving  tone  I  considered  it  wisest  to  assume  on 
the  occasion.  "  I  should  care,  I  should  be  very  sorry. 
Come  and  sit  down  here,  please,  and  tell  me  all  about  it, 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  127 

when  you  are  going,  and  where,  and  what  you  are  going 
for?" 

Benney  came  slowly  back  to  the  light.  He  seemed 
verily  to  have  grown  older  and  handsomer  in  a  moment. 
I  experienced  a  deeper  feeling  of  regret  than  ever  before, 
that  the  circumstances  of  his  life  could  not  have  been 
conducive  to  heroism. 

"  The  Captain  could  n't  tell  me  just  when  he  should 
sail,"  said  he,  "  and  I'm  going  to  get  money.  I  know  a 
good  deal  of  the  Spanish  and  Portugal,  I  learned  to  talk 
them  before  —  and  I  shall  go  to  a  great  many  places,  I 
may  not  come  back  when  the  ship  does, —  Say,  what 
strange  eyes  you've  got,  teacher,  now  they're  brown  — 
and  now,  they're  black,  and  now,  they're  a  sort  of — a — 
purplish  grey." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  boy,"  I  exclaimed,  with  a  sudden  acces 
sion  of  wisdom,  sighing  deeply,  "  you  ought  not  to  talk  to 
me  about  the  color  of  my  eyes."  At  the  same  time  to 
deepen  the  eflect  of  this  condescending  tenderness,  I 
pushed  back  lightly  from  his  forehead  a  stray  lock  of  hair 
that  was  hanging  there. 

"Don't  do  that!"  the  boy  cried  with  startling  im 
petuosity.  "  Don't  call  me  that  again  !  I  mean,  teacher," 
he  went  on  in  a  gentler  tone,  though  none  the  less  ex 
citedly, — "  If  you  should  know  somebody,  that  had  set 
his  heart  on  something,  very  much,  and  did  n't  want  any 
thing  else  if  he  could  n't  have  that,  and  if  he  should  know 
that  he  had  n't  any  right  to  ask  for  it  now,  but  go  off  and 
work  for  it  real  tight,  and,  maybe  come  back  lucky  in  a 
few  years,  with  a  right  to  ask  for  it  then, —  do  you  think, 
teacher,  that  there  'd  be  any  chance  of  his  finding  —  of 
his  getting  wnat  he  wanted  most  ?  If  you  were  in  any- 


128  CAPE     COD    FOLKS. 

body's  place,  now,  teacher,  would  you  give  him  a  word  of 
encouragement  to  try?" 

"  I  tli ink  that  the  person  you  speak  of  would  be 
much  more  likely  to  succeed  in  a  practical  undertaking, 
without  any  hallucination  of  that  sort  before  his  eyes  — 
and  if,  as  you  say,  it  isn't  right  that  he  should  ask 
for  it  now,  can  we  predict  that  it  would  be  any  more 
reasonable  and  expedient  in  the  future?  These  idle 
fancies  of  ours  soon  pass  away,  Benney,  and  will  look 
laughable  and  grotesque  enough  to  us,  by  and  by. 
Life  is  so  full  of  changes,  and  people  change,  oh,  so 
much  ! " 

In  spite  of  the  vanity  of  my  soul,  I  comforted 
myself  with  the  reflection  that  Benney  would  not  care 
long.  I  did  not  really  believe  that  he  would  go  to  sea. 
I  stood  with  him  a  moment  in  the  door  of  Grandma's 
kitchen,  lie  looked  over  to  the  woods,  behind  which 
the  water  lay,  and  the  fire  and  impatience  had  all  gone 
out  of  his  manner.  His  gentleness  touched  me  deeply, 
yet  I  was  determined  not  to  feel  his  hurt,  nor— "  if 
only  the  circumstances  of  his  life  had  been  different " — 
what  might  have  been  mine  also  ! 

"  Hark  !  It's  high  tide.  It's  making  quite  a  fuss, 
over  there,"  he  said.  "I  think  a  man  feels  more  quiet, 
somehow,  when  he's  out  there,  teacher.  Father  says  I'm 
a  wild  chap  and  uneasy.  I  guess  that's  so.  I  can  take 
care  of  them  just  as  well  too  if  I  go,  and  better.  Only  if 
I  should  die — "  there  was  nothing  affected  or  forlorn 
in  the  Cradlebow's  tone  —  "I  should  like  to  be  buried 
on  the  hill,  with  father's  folks.  You've  been  across 
there.  You  look  one  way,  and  there's  the  river,  oftenest 
still  —  and  the  other  way,  you  hear  the  old  Bay  scouring 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  129 

along  the  sand.  I  like  it,  being  used  to  hearing  it  go 
always.  Granny  says  it  makes  a  difference  then, 
where  you  lie,  about  the  resting  easy.  I  don't  know. 
Sometimes  it  seems  as  though  I  should  rest  easier 
there." 

"  A  dissertation  on  the  graveyard,"  I  began  in  atone  of 
affected  lightness,  and  then  paused,  convicted  of  untruth 
by  the  solemn  light  in  the  Cradlebow's  strange,  grand 
eyes. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BENNEY    KISSES  THE  TEACHER. 

ALLENCAMP  had  its  peculiar  seasons.  After 
the  season  of  hulled  corn,  came  the  reign  of 
baked  beans.  It  was  during  this  latter  dispen 
sation  that  my  courage  failed  considerably. 

Abagail  used  to  remark,  throwing  a  rare  musical  halo 
about  her  words,  "  These  beans  are  better  than  they  look. 
Ain't  they,  teacher?" 

And  I  was  wont  to  reply  conscientiously  enough,  though 
with  a  sweetly  wearied  glance  at  the  familiar  dish, 
"  Certainly,  they  do  taste  better  than  they  look." 

Occasionally,  we  had  what  Randal  Alden  called, 
"Squash  on  the  shell,"  an  ingenious  term  for  the  last 
of  the  winter  pumpkins  boiled  in  halves,  and  served 
au  naturcl. 

Grandpa,  too,  pined  and  put  away  his  food.  He  used 
to  look  across  the  table  at  me,  with  a  feeble  appeal  for 
sympathy  in  his  expression.  Oftentimes  he  sighed 
deeply,  and  related  anecdotes  redolent  of  "  red  salmon  " 
and  "deer  flesh,"  "strawberries  as  big  as  tea  cups" 
and  "  peaches  as  big  as  pint  bowls,"  in  places  where  he 
had  sailed. 

Once,  he  ventured  to  remark,  apologetically,  referring 
to  the  beans  and  pumpkins,  that  "bein*  sich  a  mild 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  131 

winter,  somehow  he  did  n't  hanker  arter  sech  bracin' 
food,  and  he  guessed  he'd  go  over  to  Ware'am,  and 
git  some  pork." 

"  Wall,  thar  now,  pa  !  "  said  Grandma  ;  "seems  to  me 
we'd  ought  ter  consider  all  the  fruits  o'  God's  bounty  as 
good  and  relishin'  in  their  season." 

"  I  call  that  punkin  out  of  season,"  said  Grandpa,  reck 
lessly.  "  Strikes  me  so." 

"  I  was  talkin'  about  fruits.  I  was  n't  talkin'  about 
punkins,"  said  Grandma,  with  derisive  conclusiveness. 

"  Wall,"  said  Grandpa,  very  much  aroused,  "  if  you 
call  them  tarnal  white  beans  the  fruits  of  God,  I  don't !  " 

"  Don't  you  consider  that  God  made  beans,  pa?" 

"  No,  I  don't !  "  ; 

"Who,  then — "  continued  Grandma,  in  an  awful 
tone  —  "  do  you  consider  made  beans,  pa?  " 

Grandpa's  eyes,  as  he  glared  at  the  dish,  were  large 
and  round,  and  significant  of  unspeakable  things. 

"HoggartySpicer  !"  Grandma  hastened  to  say,  "my 
ears  have  heard  enough  ! " 

As  for  Grandma,  neither  her  appetite,  nor  her  spirits, 
flagged.  In  spite  of  her  confirmed  habit  of  tantalizing 
Grandpa  —  and  this  was  from  no  malevolence  of  motive, 
but  simply  as  the  conscientious  fulfilment  of  a  sacred 
religious  and  domestic  duty — she  was  the  most  delightful 
soul  I  ever  knew. 

At  supper,  it  was  a  habit  for  her  to  sit  at  the  table  long 
after  we  had  finished  our  meal,  and  to  continue  eating 
and  talking  in  her  slow,  automatic,  sublimely  philosophical 
manner,  until  not  a  vestige  of  anything  eatable  remained, 
and  then  as  she  rose,  she  would  remark,  simply,  with 
a  glance  at  the  denuded  board : 


133  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  It  beats  all,  how  near  you  guessed  the  vittles  to-night, 

daughter  ! " 

Then  Grandma  resorted  to  an  occasional  pastime, 
harmless  and  playful  enough  in  itself,  yet  intended  as  a 
special  means  of  discipline  for  Grandpa,  and  certainly,  a 
source  of  great  torment  and  anxiety  to  that  poor  old  man. 

Between  the  hours  of  eight  and  nine  P.M.,  Grandma 
would  deftly  glide  out  of  the  family  circle,  and  be  seen 
no  more  that  night.  At  bed  time,  Grandpa  would  begin 
the  search,  while  Abagail  and  I  ungenerously  retired. 

In  the  privacy  of  my  own  chamber,  I  could  hear  the 
old  captain  tramping  desolately  about  the  Ark,  calling, 
"  Ma  !  ma  !  "  Could  hear  the  outside  door  swung  open, 
and4  imagine  Grandpa's  wild  face  peering  into  the  dark 
ness,  while  still  he  called,  "Ma!  mal  where  be  ye? 
It 's  half  after  ten  !  " 

Then,  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs  would  arise  his  dis 
tressed,  appealing  cry,  "  Come,  ma,  where  be  ye  ?  It's  half 
after  ten  !  "  Silence  everywhere.  With  a  mighty  groan, 
Grandpa  would  come  shuffling  up  the  steep  stairs,  and  what 
was  most  remarkable,  Grandma  was  invariably  found  se 
cluded  amid  the  rubbish  in  the  old  garret.  Then  the 
whisperings  that  arose  between  those  two  would  have 
pierced  through  denser  substances  by  far  than  the  little 
red  door  which  separated  me  from  the  scene. 

*'  How'd  1  know,  ma,  but  what  you'd  gone  out  and 
broke  yer  leg,  or  somethin'?  Come,  ma — "  with  exas 
perated  persuasiveness  —  "What  do  ye  want  to  pester  me 
this  way  for?  " 

"  Why,  pa,"  arose  the  calm,  mellifluous  accents  of 
Grandma  Spicer,  *'  so't  you  might  know  how  you'd  ieel 
if  I  should  be  took  away  1 " 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  133 

Next,  the  little  stair-case  would  resound  with  loud 
creaks  and  groans,  as  this  reunited  couple  cautiously 
—  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  they  believed  the  whole  affair 
had  been  conducted  with  the  utmost  secrecy — made 
their  way  down  in  their  stocking  feet. 

Grandma  —  Heaven  bless  her,  always  devoted,  though 
original  —  never  saw  a  human  ill  that  she  did  not  long  to 
alleviate.  So,  as  Grandpa  and  I  daily  refused  our  food, 
she  affirmed,  as  her  opinion,  that  the  one  need  of 
our  deranged  systems  was  a  clarifier  !  And  she  forthwith 
prepared  a  mixture  of  onions  and  molasses,  with  various 
bitter  roots,  which  latter,  she,  upon  her  knees,  had  wrested 
from  the  frosty  bosom  of  the  earth  in  an  arena  im 
mediately  adjoining  the  Ark.  Thus  I  beheld  her  one 
wintry  day,  and  wondered  greatly  what  she  was  at. 
When  I  came  home  from  school  at  night,  through 
a  strangely  permeated  atmosphere,  I  beheld  the  clarifier 
simmering  on  the  stove. 

Grandpa  already  stood  shivering  over  the  fire.  He 
smiled  when  I  came  in,  but  it  was  a  faint  and  deathly 
smile  —  the  smile  of  one  who  has  returned,  per  force, 
to  weak,  defenceless  infancy. 

Grandma  pressed  me  kindly  to  partake.  I  preferred 
to  keep  what  ills  I  had,  rather  than  fly  to  others  that 
I  knew  not  of.  So  I  gently  and  firmly  declined.  But 
for  several  days  in  succession,  Grandpa  was  made  the 
victim  of  this  ghastly  remedy. 

His  sufferings  went  beyond  the  power  of  mad  expostu 
lation  to  express,  and  came  nigh  to  produce  upon  his 
features  the  aspect  of  a  saintly  resignation. 

Never  shall  I  forget  his  appearance  during  this  clarify 
ing  period  —  his  occasional  faint  and  fleeting  attempts  at 


134  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

wit  —  his  usually  hopeless  and  world-weary  air.  The 
wonder  to  me  was  that  he  did  not  then  enter  upon  a 
celestial  state  of  existence,  being  eminently  fitted  to 
go,  as  far  as  the  attenuation  of  his  mortal  frame  was 
concerned.  It  was  at  this  time  that  I  wrote  home 
that  I  had  never  had  such  an  appetite  before  in  my  life  as 
now  in  Wallencamp  (which,  in  one  sense,  I  felt  to 
be  perfectly  true),  that  the  food  was  of  a  most 
remarkable  variety  (which  I  also  felt  to  be  true), 
but  that  it  was  rather  difficult  to  procure  oranges 
and  the  like.  Whereupon,  I  received  from  home  a 
large  box,  containing  all  manner  of  pleasant  fruits, 
and  thus  poor  old  Grandpa  Spicer  and  I  were  enabled 
to  take  a  new  lease  of  life. 

I  found  that  it  was  considered  indispensable  to 
the  proper  discharge  of  my  duties  in  Wallencamp  that  I 
should  make  frequent  calls  on  the  parents  of  my  flock, 
throughout  the  entire  community.  If  I  failed  in  any 
measure  in  this  respect,  they  reproached  me  with  being 
"  unsociable,"  and  said,  "  Seems  to  me  you  ain't  very 
neighborly,  teacher." 

1  had  called  myself  a  student  of  human  nature.  It 
seemed  to  me,  now,  that  in  those  dingy  Wallencamp 
houses,  I  stood  for  the  first  time,  awed  and  delighted 
before  the  real  article.  Sometimes  the  men  sent  out  great 
volumes  of  smoke  from  their  pipes,  in  the  low  rooms,  that 
were  not  delightful,  but  as  far  as  they  knew,  they  exerted 
themselves  to  the  utmost,  men  and  women  both,  to  make 
their  homes  pleasant  and  attractive  to  me. 

Godfrey  Cradlebow's  place  was  as  small  and  poor 
as  any.  There  was  one  room  that  served  as  kitchen, 
dining-room,  and  parlor,  with  a  corresponding  medley  of 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  135 

furniture.  A  very  finely  chased  gold  watch  hung  against 
the  loose  brown  boards  of  the  wall  —  a  reminder  of 
Godfrey  Cradlebow's  youth.  But  what  distinguished 
this  house  from  all  the  others,  was  the  profusion  of  books 
it  contained.  There  were  books  on  the  tables,  books 
under  the  tables,  books  piled  up  in  the  corners  of  the 
room. 

Godfrey  Cradlebow  himself  was  confined  in-doors 
much  of  the  time  with  the  rheumatism.  He  made  nets  for 
the  fishermen.  I  used  to  like  to  watch  his  fingers  moving 
deftly  while  he  talked. 

Things  having  gone  wrong  with  him,  and  he  having 
suffered  much  acute  physical  pain,  besides  —  (that  was 
evident  from  the  manner  in  which  his  stalwart  frame  had 
been  bent  with  his  disease)  he  had  "  taken  to  drink," 
not  excessively,  but  he  seemed  to  be,  most  of  the  time, 
in  a  lightly  inebriated  condition.  He  was  a  strange 
and  fluent  talker,  often  ecstatic. 

"  It  is  commonly  believed,  Miss  Hungerford,"  he  said 
to  me,  once,  "  that  we  start  on  the  summit  of  life,  that  we 
descend  into  the  valley,  that  the  sun  is  westering ;  but 
as  for  me,  I  seem  to  look  far  below  there  on  the  mists 
and  dew  of  earlier  years.  I  walk  among  the  hills. 
The  horizon  widens.  The  air  grows  thin.  I  see  the 
solemn  streaks  of  dawn  appearing  through  the  gloom. 
Ah,"  he  murmured,  again,  "weak  and  erring  though 
I  undoubtedly  am,  I  have  a  kinship  with  the  living 
Christ.  Yes,  even  such  kinship  as  human  worthlessness 
may  have  with  infinite  perfection.  People  will  say  to  you 
about  here,  Miss  Hungerford,  *  Oh,  never  mind  Godfrey 
Cradlebow .  He's  always  being  converted,  why,  he  has 
been  converted  twenty  times  already  1 '  very  true,  aye,  and 


136  CAPE    COD   FOLKS. 

a  hundred  times,  and  I  trust  I  shall  taste  the  sweets  of 
conversion  many  times  more  before  I  die.  I  do  not 
believe  the  soul  to  be  a  barren  tract,  so  far  removed  from 
the  ocean  of  God's  love,  that  it  may  be  washed  by  the 
waves  only  once  in  a  life-time,  and  that,  in  case  of  some 
terrible  Hood.  But  I  rejoice  daily  in  the  sweet  and  natural 
return  of  the  tide.  How  the  shore  waits  for  it  !  Strewn 
with  weeds  and  wreck,  scorched  by  the  sun,  chilled  by  the 
night,  how  it  listens  for  the  sound  of  it's  coming  !  until 
it  rushes  in  —  ah!  roar  after  roar  —  all  covering,  all 
hiding,  all  embracing  !  " 

Godfrey  Cradlebow  shook  his  head  rapturously,  tears 
rolled  down  his  cheeks,  and  all  the  while  he  went  on 
rapidly  with  his  netting. 

He  had  the  natural  tact  and  grace  of  a  gentleman,  and 
was  especially  courteous  to  his  wife.  This  brought  down 
upon  him  the  derision  of  the  Wallencampers,  whose  con 
jugal  relations  were  seldom  more  delicately  implied  than 
by  a  reference  —  "  my  woman,  thar  !  "  or  "  my  man  over 
thar  !  "  with  an  accompanying  jerk  of  the  thumb. 

Lydia,  Godfrey  Cradlebow's  wife,  was  tall  and 
slight,  with  dark  hair  and  eyes — a  perfect  face,  though 
worn  and  sad.  She  invariably  wore  over  her  cotton  gown 
on  occasions  when  she  went  out,  a  very  line,  very  thin 
old  fashioned  mantilla,  bordered  with  a  deep  black  fringe. 
This  pathetic  remnant  of  gentility,  borne  rudely  about  by 
the  Cradlebow  winds,  with  Lydia:s  refined  face  and 
melancholy  dark  eyes,  gave  her  a  very  interesting  and 
picturesque  appearance,  though  I  never  thought  that  she 
wore  the  mantilla  during  the  winter  for  effect.  She  was 
shy,  though  exceedingly  gentle  in  her  manners.  At  first, 
I  had  thought  that  she  avoided  me.  But  one  time,  when, 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  137 

making  the  round  of  my  parochial  calls,  I  stopped  at  the 
Cradle-bow's,  and  Mr.  Cradlebow  discoursing  fluently 
on  the  Phenomenon,  recommended  a  severe  method  of 
discipline  as  best  adapted  to  his  case,  I  replied,  laugh 
ingly,  that  he  had  hetter  be  cautious  about  making  any  sug 
gestions  of  that  sort,  for  Simeon  and  I  were  getting  to  be 
great  friends ;  the  mother,  on  whose  heart  I  had  had  no 
design,  took  my  harjd  at  the  door,  when  I  went  away,  in  a 
clinging,  almost  an  affectionate  way. 

'*  You  are  good  to  my  boys,  teacher,"  she  said,  "  and  I 
thank  you  for  it.  They  make  you  a  great  deal  of 
trouble." 

"  Oh,  no,"  I  answered  lightly,  returning  with  a  sense 
of  pleasure  the  pressure  of  her  hand,  and  it  was  not 
until  afterwards,  walking  slowly  down  the  lane  that  I 
sighed  gently,  thinking  of  that  troublesome  boy  who  had 
told  me  he  was  going  to  sea. 

Removed  from  the  world  of  newspapers,  the  ordinary 
active  interest  in  the  affairs  of  church  and  state,  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  the  lively  gadding  about,  neighborly 
dropping-in  element  in  Wnllencamp.  This  applied  to  the 
men  equally  as  well  as  to  the  women.  I  remember  that 
Abbie  Ann  once  put  out  her  washing  and  this  fact 
kept  the  whole  social  element  of  Wallencamp  on  the 
qui  vivc  for  a  number  of  days. 

The  caller  would  appear  at  the  door  at  any  time  during 
the  day  with  a  good  natured  matter-of-fact  "  I  was  a 
passin'  by,  and  thought  I'd  drop  in  a  minit,  jest  to  see 
how  ye  was  gittin'  along." 

"Won't  you  set?"  would  be  the  cordial  response. 
"  Do  set." 

"  Wall,  I  don't  know  how  to  spend  the  time,  anyway," 


138  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

the  visitor  would  reply,  "thar's  so  many  things  a  drivin'  on 
me." 

But  this  care  belabored  victim  of  fate  usually  con 
cluded  by  sitting  quite  complacently  for  any  length  of 
time. 

When  such  visitations  occurred  out  of  school  hours,  and 
I  remained  up  in  my  room,  as  I  frequently  did  at  first,  the 
droppers  in  felt  very  much  aggrieved,  as  though  I  had 
wittingly  offended  the  instincts  of  good  society. 

Besides  all  which,  seldom  an  evening  passed  that  the 
young  people  did  not  come  to  the  Ark  en  masse  to  sing. 

Then  Abagail  or  Ethel,  or  (very  rarely)  I,  propelled  a 
strain  of  doubtful  melody  from  Abagail 's  little  melodeon, 
while  the  singers — boys  and  girls  together — chimed  in, 
joyfully  rendering  with  a  perfect  fearlessness  of  utterance 
and  deep  intensity  of  expression  such  songs  as  "  Go,  bury 
thy  sorrow,  the  world  hath  its  share,"  and  "  Jesus  keep 
me  near  the  cross,"  and  "  Whiter  than  snow,  yes,  whiter 
than  snow ;  now  wash  me,  and  I  shall  be  whiter  than 
snow." 

They  knew  no  other  songs.  They  would  sing  through 
a  large  proportion  of  the  Moody  and  Sankey  Hymnal  in  a 
single  evening. 

At  first  I  listened  half  amused  or  thoroughly  wearied. 
But,  as  the  strains  grew  more  familiar  and  I  sang  occa 
sionally  with  the  others,  I  felt  each  day  more  tired  and 
more  conscious  of  my  own  incompetency.  And  still  the 
words  rang  in  my  ears :  "  I  hear  the  Saviour  say,  thy 
strength  indeed  is  small,"  with  much  about  trusting  in 
Him,  and  his  willingness  to  bear  it  all.  As  the  wind  beat 
against  the  Ark  on  wild  nights,  so  that  we  could  hardly 
tell  which  was  the  wind  and  which  was  the  roar  of  the 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  139 

maddened  sea,  and  still  those  voices  chanted  hopefully  of 
the  "stormless  home  beyond  the  river,"  etc.,  the  words 
began  to  strike  on  something  deeper  than  my  physical  or 
intellectual  sense,  and  that  not  rudely. 

I  smiled  to  catch  myself  humming  them  over  often,  and 
in  the  school-room  when  I  felt  that  my  patience  was  fast 
oozing,  and  I  experienced  a  wild  desire  to  loose  the  reins 
and  let  all  go,  unconsciously  I  took  refuge  in  repeating 
those  same  simple  words,  going  over  with  them,  again 
and  again,  beneath  my  breath,  holding  on  to  them  as 
though  they  possessed  some  unknown  charm  to  keep  me 
still  and  strong. 

I  went  to  the  evening  meetings.  They  were  held  in 
the  school-house,  and  were  very  popular  in  Wallencamp. 

By  some  provision  of  the  Government  on  behalf  of  the 
Indians,  a  small  meeting-house  had  been  built  for  those  in 
the  vicinity  of  Wallencamp,  and  they  were  also  provided 
with  a  minister  for  several  months  during  the  year.  On 
this  account  the  Indians  rather  set  themselves  up  above 
the  benighted  Wallencampers  whom  Government  had 
not  endowed  with  the  privileges  of  the  sanctuary,  while 
they  in  turn,  made  derisive  allusions  to  the  k<  Nigger- 
camp  "  minister,  and  regarded  with  contempt  its  pre 
scribed  means  of  grace. 

The  Indians  enjoyed,  for  part  of  the  time  that  I  was  in 
Wallencamp  the  ministrations  of  a  Baptist  clergyman,  a 
truly  earnest  and  intelligent  man,  gifted  with  a  most  force 
ful  manner  of  utterance,  but  so  lean  as  to  present  a 
phenomenal  appearance. 

This  good  man  feared  nothing  but  that  he  should  fail 
in  some  part  of  the  performance  of  his  duty.  He  be 
lieved  that  it  was  his  duty  to  come  over  and  preach  to 


140  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

the  Wallencampers  also,  in  their  school- house,  and  ne 
did  so. 

I  think  that  the  Wallencampers  regarded  this,  on  the 
whole,  as  a  doubtful  though  entertaining  move. 

I  do  not  think  that  they  took  any  particular  pains  to 
harass  or  annoy  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rivers.  But  they  certainly 
did  not  restrict  themselves  in  that  natural  freedom  which 
they  always  enjoyed  on  the  occasions  of  their  spiritual 
feasts. 

They  attended,  as  usual  —  the  old  and  the  young,  the 
good,  the  bad,  the  indifferent,  with  a  lively  sprinkling  of 
babies. 

Though  not  a  cold  night,  they  kept  the  stove  gorged 
with  fuel.  It  roared  furiously.  They  were  restless. 
They  made  signs  audibly  expressive  of  the  fact  that 
the  air  of  the  room  was  insufferably  close,  and  very 
audibly  slammed  up  the  windows.  They  whispered  and 
giggled  ;  they  went  out  and  came  in,  as  they  pleased. 
They  drank  a  great  deal  of  water.  I  remember  particu 
larly,  how  at  the  most  earnest  and  affecting  part  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Rivers  discourse,  the  immortal  Estella,  alias 
the  "  Modoc,"  arose  in  gawky  innocence  and  all  good 
faith  from  her  seat  immediately  in  front  of  the  speaker, 
and  walked  to  the  back  part  of  the  room  to  regale  herself 
with  a  draught. 

The  Baptist  minister  discharged  a  withering  and  con 
scientious  reproof  at  them  through  his  nose. 

Now,  for  the  Wallencampers  to  be  reproved,  however 
scathingly,  by  some  zealous  and  inspired  individual  of  their 
own  number,  was  considered,  on  the  whole,  as  an  apt  and 
appropriate  thing,  but  to  be  reproved  by  the  "  Nigger- 
camp  "  minister !  When,  after  the  meeting  he  walked 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  141 

with  the  Spicer  family  back  to  the  Ark,  where  he  had 
been  hospitably  entertained,  the  Wallencamp  boys  saw  us 
depart  in  silent  wrath,  and  I  feared  that  treachery  lay 
in  wait  for  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rivers. 

He  sat  and  talked  with  us  at  the  Ark  for  an  hour 
or  more,  perhaps,  before  bidding  us  good  night,  and 
during  that  time,  I  caught  frequent  glimpses  of  faces 
that  appeared  at  the  window,  and  then  vanished  again 
instantly  —  familiar  faces,  expressive  of  much  scornful 
merriment.  Now  and  then  I  heard  a  smothered  giggle 
outside,  and  a  scrambling  among  the  bushes.  It  was 
a  dark  night.  When  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rivers  finally  rose  to 
depart,  and  had  got  as  far  as  the  gate,  he  became  help 
lessly  entangled  in  a  perfect  net-work  of  small  ropes. 
He  could  neither  advance  nor  recede.  In  a  pitiable  and 
ignominious  condition,  he  called  to  us  for  help. 

"  Those  devilish  boys  ! "  said  Grandpa,  with  religious 
fervor  of  tone,  at  the  same  time  glancing  at  me  with 
a  delighted  twinkle  in  his  eye.  *'  I  knew  they  was  up  to 
someihing.  I  heered  'em  out  there,"  and  he  patiently 
lit  his  lantern,  and  went  out  to  cut  the  minister  free,  but 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Rivers  did  not  come  to  the  Waliencamp 
school  house  to  preach  again. 

Among  those  who  looked  on  with  quiet  approval 
at  this  childish  and  barbarous  performance  of  the  Wallen- 
camp  youth,  I  learned  afterwards,  were  staid  Noel  N orris 
and  little  Bachelor  Rae. 

Left  to  their  own  spiritual  devices,  the  Wallencampers 
carried  on  their  evening  meetings  after  methods  formerly 
approved.  They  rose  and  talked  —  or  prayed  —  or 
diverted  themselves  socially  —  or  sang.  Everything  they 
were  moved  to  do,  they  did. 


142  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

The  lame  giant,  Godfrey  Cradlebow,  at  seasons  when 
the  tide  came  in,  would  pour  forth  the  utterances  of  his 
soul  with  the  most  earnest  eloquence.  At  other  times,  he 
was  morbid  and  silent,  or  made  sceptical  and  sneering 
remarks,  aside. 

Noel  Norris,  though  generally  regarded  as  a  believer, 
had  never  so  far  overcome  his  natural  modesty  and 
reserve,  as  to  address  the  Wallencamp  meeting.  But 
one  night,  spurred  to  make  the  attempt  by  some  of 
his  malicious  and  fun-loving  compatriots,  he  surprised  us 
all  by  rising  with  a  violent  motion  from  his  seat,  and 
making  a  sudden  plunge  forward  as  though  his  audience 
were  a  cold  bath,  and  he  had  determined  to  wade  in. 

"  Boys  !  "  he  began,  with  a  most  unnatural  ferocious 
ness.  Then  I  feltNoel'seyes  fixed  on  my  face.  "  And 
girls,  too,"  he  added,  more  gently,  "  and  girls,  too, 
certainly,  /  think  so,"  he  continued,  "/  think  so."  His 
tone  became  very  feeble.  He  glanced  about  with  a  wild 
eye  for  his  hat,  grasped  it,  and  went  out,  and  I  saw  him 
afterwards,  through  the  window,  standing  like  a  statue,  in 
the  moonlight,  with  his  arms  folded,  and  with  a  perfectly 
cold  and  emotionless  cast  of  countenance. 

Among  the  professors,  Godfrey  Cradlebow's  mother, 
Aunt  Susan,  with  quite  as  much  fire  and  less  delicacy 
of  expression  than  characterized  the  speech  of  the  strange 
lame  man,  was  always  ready  to  warn,  threaten,  and  exhort. 

Grandpa  Spicer,  too,  though  not  subjected  to  the  reno 
vating  and  rejuvenating  processes  of  the  Sabbath,  but  just 
touched  up  a  little  here  and  there,  enough  to  give  him  a 
slight  "  odor  of  sanctity,"  and  a  saving  sense  of  personal 
discomfort,  was  always  led  to  the  meeting,  and  kept  close 
by  Grandma  Spicer's  side  on  the  most  prominent  bench. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  143 

When  there  was  one  of  those  frightful  pauses  which 
sometimes  occurred  even  in  the  cheerful  concourse  of  the 
Wallencampers,  casting  a  depressing  influence  over  all 
hearts,  Grandma  Spicer  by  a  series  of  covert  pokes 
and  nudges,  would  signify  to  Grandpa  that  now  was 
the  appointed  moment  for  him  to  arise  and  let  his  light 
shine. 

And  Grandpa  Spicer  was  not  a  timid  man,  but  -since 
the  event  of  his  clarification,  he  had  shown  a  stronger 
dislike  than  ever  to  being  pestered,  and  was  abnormally 
quick  to  detect  and  resist  any  advances  of  that  kind.  So 
his  movements  on  these  occasions  were  marked  by 
an  angry  deliberation,  though  the  old  sea-captain  never 
failed  in  the  end,  to  arise  and  "  hand  in  his  testimony." 

His  remarks  were  (originally)  clear  cut  and  terse. 

"  There's  no  need  o'  my  gittin'  up.  You  all  know  how 
I  stand"  (an  admonitory  nudge  from  Grandma),  "  What's 
the  matter  now,  ma?"  I  could  hear  the  old  man  swear, 
mentally,  but  he  went  on  with  the  amend  nent,  "or  try  to. 
I'm  afeered  that  even  the  best  on  us,  at  some  time 
or  nuther,  have  been  up  to  some  devil " — (sly,  but 
awfully  emphatic  nudge  from  Grandma)  "ahem!  we're 
all  born  under  a  cuss  !  "  persisted  Grandpa,  with  irate 
satisfaction.  "  I've  steered  through  a  good  many  oceans," 
he  continued,  more  softly,  "  but  thar  ain't  none  so  — 
misty — as  this — a — "(portentious  nudge  from  Grandma,) 
"  as  this  pesky  ocean  of  Life  !  We've  got  to  keep 
%  sharp  look  out"  (another  nudge  from  Grandma), 
"  ahem,  steer  clear  of  the  rocks,"  (persistent  nudges  from 
Grandma),  "ahem!  ahem!  trust  in  God  Almighty!" 
admitted  Grandpa  with  telling  force,  and  sat  down. 

As  for  Grandma,  she  was  herself  always  prompt  and 


144  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

faithful  in  the  discharge  of  duty,  however  trying  the 
circumstances.  She  was  no  hypocrite,  this  clear  old 
soul !  She  could  not  have  feigned  sentiments  which  she 
did  not  feel,  yet  it  was  invariably  the  case  that,  as  she 
rose  in  meeting,  her  usually  cheerful  face  became  in  the 
highest  degree  tearful  and  lugubrious.  The  thought 
of  so  many  precious  souls  drifting  toward  destruction 
filled  her  tender  heart  with  woe.  She  besought  them 
in  the  gentlest  and  most  persuasive  terms  to  "  turn 
to  Jesus."  She  dwelt  long  upon  His  love,  standing 
always  with  hands  reverently  clasped  before  her,  and  eyes 
downcast  with  awe. 

I  used  to  long  to  hear  her  speak.  The  sound  of  that 
low,  tender  monotone  was  in  itself,  inexpressibly  soothing. 
But  Grandma's  tongue  had  its  mild  edge,  as  well. 

Once,  when  she  was  speaking,  a  number  of  the 
young  people — it  was  a  common  occurrence — rose 
to  go  out. 

Grandma  went  on  talking  without  raising  either  her 
voice  or  her  eyes ;  but,  when  they  had  reached  the  door, 
"  What  — "  said  she,  in  that  tone  which,  though  so  mild, 
somehow  unaccountably  arrested  their  progress,  "  what  — 
poor,  wanderin'  creeturs  —  if  your  understanding  should 
give  out !  "  meaning,  what  if  you  should  suddenly  be 
deprived  of  the  use  of  your  legs  !  "  Have  you  never 
heered,"  she  continued,  "the  story  of  Antynias  and 
Sapfiry?" 

But  she  did  not  recount  the  tale.  If  possible,  she 
would  rather  use  words  of  love  than  of  malediction. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  faithful  manner  in  which 
she  narrated  Abraham's  intercession  with  the  Lord 
for  Sodom  and  Gomorrah. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  145 

"  And  Abraham  said  to  the  Lord,  '  Periodventure 
there  be  fifty  righteous  found,'  he  said,  'wiliest  thou 
destroy  the  city,  and  them  in  it?  Oh,  no!  that  ain't 
like  the  Lord,'  he  says  4  for  to  slay  the  righteous  and  the 
wicked  together  —  fur  be  it.'  And  the  Lord  says,  'No. 
If  1  find  fifty  righteous  I'll  spare  all  the  rest,'  he  says,  '  on 
account  o1  them  fifty,'  he  says,  and  Abraham  says,  '  Oh 
Lord,  now  I've  begun,'  he  says,  '  and  you  don't  seem 
so  very  much  put  out  with  me  as  I  expected,  I've 
a  good  mind  to  keep  on  askin'  ye  a  little  more,  jest 
to  see  what  ye '11  say,'  he  says,  *  Oh  Lord,  periodventure 
what  if  there  should  n't  be  but  forty-five?'  he  says." 

Grandma  went  through  the  list  of  "  periodventures," 
depicting  Abraham's  growing  fear  and  obsequiousness  in 
the  most  tragic  manner  until  she  got  to  the  hypothetical 
ten. 

"And  Abraham  said,  'Oh  Lord,  I  know  you  won't 
like  it  this  time,  but  I've  gone  so  fur  now,  that  I'm 
going  to  out  with 't,  and  don't  —  don't  git  put  out,  oh 
Lord  I  and  I  won't  put  it  one  mite  lower.  Period- 
venture,  oh  Lord,  what  if  there  should  n't  be  but  ten  ? ' 
and  the  Lord  said,  '  If  there  was  n't  but  ten,  he  would  n't 
destroy  them  wicked  cities.'  Now,"  continued  Grandma, 
with  tearful  impressiveness,  "if  Abraham  had  even  a 
ventured  to  put  it  down  one  five  more,  what  more  chance 
do  you  think  there 'd  be  for  us  here  in  Wallencamp  ?  " 

After  the  meeting,  Captain  Sartell  and  Bachelor 
Rae  held  their  usual  theological  levee,  outside  the 
school-house. 

"  Wall,  Bachelder,"  said  the  Captain,  who  always  took 
the  initiative  with  extreme  recklessness,  "  if  it  was  a  goin' 
to  take  ten  to  clear  Sodom  and  Germorrer,  how  many 


H6  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

righteous  men    do  you    calkilate    it    ud    take  ter  lift 
the  mortgage  offn  this  ere  peninsheler,  eh?" 

Bachelor  Rae  was  unusually  thoughtful. 

"  Heh  !  "  said  he,  in  his  thin  drawl.  "  The  Lord  knew 
he  was  seafe  enough  —  knew  he'd  a  been  seafe  enough  if 
he'd  a  said  tew ;  knew  he'd  a  been  seafe  enough  if 
he'd  a  said  eone,  for  there's  his  own  statement  to  the 
effect  —  heh  !  —  that  there  was  n't  a. righteous  man  eany- 
where,  no,  not  eone." 

"  Not  much  leeway,  that's  a  fact,  Bachelder,"  said 
Captain  Sartell ,  who  had  an  embarrassed  way,  particularly 
when  discussing  subjects  of  a  religious  nature,  of  twisting 
his  powerful  blonde  head  about,  and  swallowing  very  hard. 

"D d  little  leeway,   I  must  confess, —  wall  —  all  the 

same  for  you  and  me,  Bachelder." 

Bachelor  Rae  smiled  a  little. 

"  Heh !  What  was  it  about  that  couple,  Almiry 
(Grandma  Spicer)  was  tellin'  about  —  Antynias  and 
Sapf/ry  —  heh,  Captain?  What  streuck  'em  eany  way? 
It  wasn't  because  they  went  out  o'  meetin'  was  it?  I 
think  it  would  be  a  satisfaction  to  the  company,  Captain, 
if  you  would  relate  the  circumstance." 

The  brave  and  honest  captain  craned  his  neck  about 
with  several  hard  gulps. 

"Wall,  to  tell  the  truth,  Bachelder,  I  ain't  quite 
so  well  posted  with  the  Old  Testament  as  I  be  with 
the  New,  but,"  he  continued,  resolutely,  "  if  it  would 
be  any  favor  to  the  company — as  near  as  I  calkalate, 
this  ere  Antynias  heered  that  the  Lord  was  a  goin* 
by,  and,  as  near  as  I  calkalate,  he  clim'  up  in 
a  tree  to  see  him  pass."  The  captain  writhed  fearfully, 
but  did  not  flinch.  "And,  as  near  as  I  calkalate,  he 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  147 

got  on  to  a  rotten  limb,  and  it  let  him  down.  That  is,"  he 
remarked,  with  concluding  agony,  "as  near  as  I 
calkalate." 

"  Heh  !  yees,  much  obleeged,  I'm  sure,"  said  Bachelor 
Rae.  "  I,  heh  !  I  recall  the  anecdote  now,  perfectly,  but 
wheere  —  wheere  was  Sapf /ry  ?  " 

"  Wall,"  the  captain  gave  a  gulp  that  actually  brought 
the  tears  to  his  eyes,  "  as  near  as  I  calkalate,  Sapf/ry  was 
under  the  limb." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Bachelor  Rae ,  "  certainly  !  and  a  veery 
unfortunate  poseetion  for  Sapf/ry  it  was,  too.  I  weesh 
you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  eenfonn  the  company  in  what 
part  of  the  Sacred  Writ  this  little  anecdote  is  recorded, 
Captain,  as  I  for  one,  should  very  much  leike  to  look  it  up." 

Captain  Sartell  took  a  determined  step  forward. 
"  Look  y'  here,  Bachelder,"  said  he,"  I  don't  want  no  hard 
words  betwixt  you  and  me,  for  there  never  has  been. 
But  a  man's  word  is  a  man's  word,  and  a  man's  friends  had 
ought  to  stick  by  it,  and  I  want  you  to  understand  that, 
on  this  ere  point,  I  ain't  agoin'  to  have  no  lookin'  up." 

"Heh!"  Bachelor  Rae  smiled  and  nodded  his  head, 
cheerfully.  I'd  be  willin'  to  waeger  my  life,  Captain, 
that  if  anybody's  made  a  mistake  on  this  point  —  heh  —  it 
ain't  you."  And  with  this  amicable  conclusion,  the  two 
stars  withdrew. 

George  Olw,  sometimes  rose  in  meeting  and  made  a 
few  remarks  indicative  of  a  manly  spirit  and  much  sound 
common  sense.  He  was  very  fond  of  Ethel,  that  was  plain. 
Her  continued  indifference  to  him  made  him  sore  at 
heart,  and  the  people  in  Wnllencamp  suggested  that  on 
this  account  he  was  more  serious  than  he  would  other 
wise  have  been. 


148  GATE    COD    FOLKS. 

As  for  Ethel,  they  said  that  she  had  given  up  "seekin' 
religion,"  and  had  returned  to  the  world.  She  did  not 
rise  for  prayers  any  more  and  she  did  not  "  lead  the 
singin'  "  any  more.  And  it  was  true  that  she  seemed  to 
me  to  have  changed,  somehow.  I  knew  that  she  was  as 
girlishly  devoted  to  me  as  ever,  as  thoughtful  as  ever  to 
please  me.  One  Saturday  morning,  knowing  that  I 
had  letters  in  the  West  Wallen  Post  Office,  which  I  was 
anxious  to  get  before  Sunday,  she  walked  the  whole  dis 
tance  alone  to  get  them,  and  sent  them  up  to  me  by  one 
of  the  school  children,  so  that  I  should  not  know  who 
went  after  them.  She  was  careful  lest  I  should  notice  any 
change  in  her.  But  I  caught  a  reckless,  mocking  gleam 
in  her  eyes,  at  times,  that  had  never  shone  there  when 
I  knew  her  first.  She  associated  more  with  the  "  other 
girls,"  now.  I  heard  her  talking  and  laughing  with  them 
in  as  loud  and  careless  a  tone  as  their  own.  She  even 
whispered  and  laughed  in  the  evening  meetings.  And 
this  after  all  the  earnest,  serious  discourse  I  had  had 
with  her,  the  ''refining,"  "elevating"  influences  I  had 
tried  to  throw  around  her,  having  first  taken  her  so 
graciously  under  my  wing  !  She  knew  what  belonged  to 
agreeable  manners,  and  the  advantage  of  paying  a  graceful 
obedience  to  the  dictates  of  one's  moral  sense  !  Some 
thing  must  be  very  innately  wrong  in  Ethel,  I  thought 
something  I  had  not  hitherto  suspected,  else  why  should 
she  fail  in  any  degree  under  so  admirable  a  method  ! 

"  My  dear,"  1  said  to  her.  "  I  am  often  tempted  to  do 
wrong  —  especially  because  my  life  has  been  hitherto 
so  vain  and  thoughtless  —  but,  having  resolved  to 
struggle  with  temptation,  and  to  repel  my  own  selfish  in 
clinations,  1  will  not  be  content  until  i  come  off  con- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  149 

querer ;  I  will  not  fall  out  or  loiter  by  the  way ;  I  have 
trials  and  perplexities,  but  I  will  not  submit  to  them,  nor 
be  driven  from  my  purpose.  Now,  are  you  struggling  to 
resist  the  little  temptations  that  come  to  you  day  by  day? 
Are  you  striving  to  make  the  very  best  of  yourself,  Ethel  ?  " 

I  knew  how  easily  i  could  move  Ethel,  either  to  laughter 
or  tears,  so  I  was  not  surprised  to  see  her  lip  tremble,  and 
her  eyes  fill ;  but  I  was  surprised  at  the  look  of  intense 
anguish,  almost  of  horror,  that  came  into  her  face.  1  had 
not  supposed  that  she  was  capable  of  such  strong  emotion 
and  1  marveled  greatly,  what  could  be  the  cause. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "you  don't  know,  teacher,  you  don't 
know  !  It  never  seemed  so  bad  before  I  knew  you.  I 
was  different  brought  up  from  you,  and  i  loved  you,  and 
when  i  knew,  oh,  then  I  could  die,  but  I  could  n't  tell 
you  1  Oh,  you  would  n't  kiss  me  again,  ever,  if  you  knew, 
and  I  wish  you  would  n't,  for  it  hurts,  it  hurts  worse  than 
if  you  did  n't !" 

Ethel  ha  1  turned  very  pale,  and  drew  her  breath  in  long 
gasping  sobs. 

"Baby!"  I  said  reassuringly,  stroking  her  hair,  "I 
don't  believe  you  have  done  anything  very  wrong."  But 
Ethel  drew  away  from  me. 

"  You  don't  know,"  she  said.  "  I  was  brought  up 
different  —  and  it  was  before  you  came,  and  I  never  knew 
that,  what  you  told  me  about  not  trusting  people.  I 
thought  it  was  all  true,  and  oh  !  —  there  ain't  anybody  to 
help  !  Oh,  I  wish  I  was  dead  !  I  wish  I  was  dead  ! " 

"Ethel,"  I  said,  a  little  frightened  and  convinced  that 
the  girl  had  some  serious  trouble  at  heart.  "Tell  me 
what  the  trouble  is  ?  Has  anyone  deceived  you  ?  And 
why  should  any  one  wish  to  deceive  you,  child?" 


160  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Ethel  only  moaned  and  shook  her  head. 

'But  you  must  tell  me,"  I  said,  "I  can't  help  you 
unless  you  do." 

She  drew  herself  farther  away  from  me,  with  only  these 
convulsive  sobs  for  a  reply.  I  did  not  attempt  to  get 
nearer  to  her,  to  comfort  her  as  it  had  been  my  first  im 
pulse  to  do.  She  had  repulsed  me  once.  "You  are 
nervous  and  excited,  my  dear,"  I  decided  to  say,  "  and 
something  of  little  consequence,  probably,  looks  like  a 
mountain  of  difficulty  to  you.  At  any  rate,  when  you  get 
ready  to  confide  in  me,  you  must  come  to  me.  I  shall 
not  question  you  again." 

So  I  left  her,  less  with  a  feeling  of  commiseration  for 
her,  than  with  a  deep  sense  of  my  own  pressing  burdens 
and  responsibilities. 

I  had  another  ex-pupil  (Ethel  had  been  out  of  school 
for  several  weeks),  who  was  a  source  of  considerable 
anxiety  to  me  —  Benney  Leonard.  He  had  ceased 
coming  to  the  Ark  to  sing  with  the  others.  He  had  not 
played  on  his  violin  since  that  first  night  when  his  string 
broke. 

I  heard  that  he  had  gone  to  New  Bedford,  and  it  was  a 
day  or  two  afterwards  that,  coming  out  of  the  school- 
house  after  the  meeting,  I  saw  him  standing  on  the  steps 
alone.  1  knew  that  an  escort  from  among  the  Wallen- 
camp  youths  was  close  behind  me.  I  hastened  to  put 
my  hand  on  Benney 's  arm. 

"  Will  you  walk  home  with  me?"  I  said,  looking  up  in 
his  face  and  smiling.  I  knew  that  the  face  lifted  to  his 
then,  was  a  beautiful  one,  that  the  hand  resting  on  his 
arm  was  small  and  daintily  gloved,  unlike  the  bare  coarse 
hands  of  the  Wallencampers.  I  knew  that  my  dress  had 


CAPE    GOD    FOLKS.  151 

an  air  and  a  grace  also  foreign  to  Wallencamp,  that  a 
delicate  perfume  went  up  from  my  garments,  that  my 
voice  was  more  than  usually  winning.  I  expenenced  a 
dangerous  sense  of  satisfaction  in  the  conquest  of  this 
unsophisticated  youth— a  conquest  not  wholly  without 
its  retributive  pain  and  intoxication. 

I  felt  the   Cradlebow  's  arm  tremble  as  we  walked  up 

the  lane. 

"  I  have  a  little  private  lecture  to  give  you,  Benney," 
said.     "  Of  course  you  have  been  very  much  absorbed  in 
your  own  affairs  lately,  but,  is  that  an  excuse  for  forsaking 
your  old  friends  entirely?     Especially  if   you  are  going 
away.     Are  you  going  away  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Benney. 

"When?"  I  asked. 

"  In  April,"  he  answered  briefly. 

"  And  weren't  you  ever  coming  to  see  me,  again?"  I 
murmured  with  designing  soft  reproach. 

"  I  was  coming  up  by  and  by,  to  say  Good-bye," 
said  Benney,  brokenly. 

i4  Only  for  that?  "  I  questioned,  and  sighed  with  a  per 
fect  abandonment  of  rectitude  and  good  faith  to  the 
selfish  gratification  of  that  moment. 

"What  else  should  I  come  up  for?"  he  exclaimed 
breaking  out  into  sudden  passion.  "  Except  to  tell  you 
what  you  don't  want  to  hear,  that  I  love  you,  teacher,  I 
love  you." 

"Oh,  hush  ! "  I  cried  with  a  little  accent  of  unaffected 
pain.  "  It  is  n't  right  for  me  to  let  you  talk  to  me  in  that 
way,  Benney.  Oh,  don't  you  see  ?  you're  nothing  but  a 
boy  to  me  ! " 

"  That's  a  lie  I "  the  boy  replied,  with  face  and  eyes 


152  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

aflame.  "And  because  I  am  poor  and  because  I  ana 
more  ignorant  than  you,  you  make  it  an  excuse  to  trifle 
with  me  — and  you  look  only  to  the  outside,  but  you  know 
I  have  lived  as  long  as  you  —  a  boy's  head,  you  mean," 
he  went  on  with  choking,  fiery  bitterness.  "  And  it  may 
be,  and  you  are  very  kind,  God  knows  !  But  I  can  tell 
you  one  thing,  teacher,  it  is  n't  a  boy's  heart  for  you  to 
put  your  foot  on  1 " 

It  was  not  a  boy's  strength  in  the  quivering  frame  and 
tense,  drawn  muscles.  In  his  rare  passions  I  admired 
Benney. 

The  greater  meekness  and  patience  which  always  fol 
lowed,  I  attributed  to  a  lack  of  perseverance  or  a  too  easy 
abandonment  of  purpose. 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  very  happy  all  your  life  through, 
teacher,"  he  said,  as  we  stood  at  the  door  of  the  Ark  ;  and 
he  spoke  very  gently,  and  as  though  he  was  going  away 
then  forever.  Abagail  had  the  key;  she  and  her 
companions  had  lingered  at  the  school  house,  as  usual, 
after  the  meeting.  I  murmured  something  about  being 
very  happy  to  have  such  a  kind,  true  friend ;  that 
I  should  probably  leave  Wallencamp  before  he  went 
to  sea,  but  I  hoped  he  would  write  me  about  his  wander 
ings  over  the  world,  and  I  should  always  be  happy 
to  answer  and  give  him  my  sisterly  advice. 

Benney  continued,  thoughtfully,  almost  smiling : 

"  You  remember  that  night,  teacher,  ever  so  long  ago 
it  seems,  before  I  knew  you,  when  the  boys  dragged 
me  into  the  Ark  and  I  kissed  you  ?  I've  always  kissed 
the  girls  when  they  come  home  from  anywhere,  and 
I  never  thought,  you  know.  I  didn't  mean  anything 
by  it." 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  153 

"Yes,"  I  said.  I  think  I  must  have  looked  amused. 
Benney  answered  the  laugh  in  my  eyes  with  quiet 
appreciation. 

"  Well,  teacher,"  he  said,  "  I  should  like  to  kiss  you 
just  once  to-night,  and  mean  it." 

"That's  a  remarkable  request,"  I  said,  "to  come  from 
my  oldest  pupil ;  but  it  is  my  privilege  to  bestow, 
just  once.  If  you  will  bend  down  from  your  commanding 
height,  and  put  yourself  in  a  humble  and  submissive 
attitude  before  me." 

The  Cradlebow  knelt  on  the  doorstep.  I  would  have 
stooped  to  his  forehead,  but  he  put  up  his  arm  with  an 
extremely  boyish,  inoffensive  gesture,  almost  with  a  sob,  I 
thought,  to  draw  me  closer. 

I  would  have  had  that  kiss  as  passionless  as  though  it 
had  been  given  to  a  child.  The  Cradlebow's  breath 
was  pure  upon  my  cheek  —  but  I  was  compelled  to  feel 
the  answering  flame  creep  slowly  in  my  own  blood. 

"  Never  ask  me  to  do  that  again  !  "  I  exclaimed,  in 
righteous  exculpation  of  the  act.  "  Never  1 " 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FESTIVITIES  AT  THE  ARK. 

|P  from  the  beach,  lightly  tripping,  capacious 
reticule  in  hand,  came  Mrs.  N  orris  to  spend 
the  day  at  the  Ark,  unexpectedly  !  The  in 
spired  and  felicitous  customs  of  the  Wallencampers 
admitted  of  no  rude  surprises ;  rational  joy,  alone, 
pervaded  the  Ark  at  this  matutinal  advent. 

Mrs.  Norris,  Noel's  mother,  presented  a  charmingly 
antique  appearance  —  antique  not  in  the  sense  of  ad 
vanced  years,  but  the  young  antique  —  the  gay,  the  lively, 
the  never  fading  antique.  She  had  even  a  girlish  way  of 
simpering  and  uttering  absurdly  rapturous  exclamations. 
Her  face  might  have  struck  one  at  first  as  being  of  a 
strangely  elongated  cast,  but  for  its  extreme  prettiness  and 
simplicity  of  expression.  Her  nose  was  marked  by  a  be 
coming  scallop  or  two.  Her  eyes  were  of  the  ocean  blue. 
Her  dark  hair  was  arranged,  behind,  in  the  simplest  and 
most  compact  manner  possible;  but,  in  front,  art  held 
delightful  play.  There,  it  was  parted,  slightly  to  the  left, 
over  a  broad,  high  forehead,  and  disposed  in  braids  of 
eight  strands  each,  gracefully  and  lovingly  looped  over 
Mrs.  Norris's  eais 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  155 

The  tide  of  cheerful  converse  was  at  its  full  when 
I  came  home  from  school  to  lunch.  Amid  this  prepon 
derance  of  female  society,  my  friend,  Grandpa,  shone 
with  an  ardent  though  faintly  tolerated  light,  giving 
to  the  lively  flow  of  the  discourse,  an  occasional  salty  and 
comprehensive  flavor,  which  dear  Grandma  Spicer  held 
herself  ever  in  calm  and  religious  readiness  to  restrain. 

1  listened,  intensely  interested,  to  the  conversation, 
quite  content  for  my  own  part,  to  keep  silence,  but 
I  caught  Mrs.  Norris's  eye  fixed  on  me  as  if  in  abstracted, 
beatific  thought.  Soon  was  made  known  the  result  of 
her  meditation.  She  had  concluded  that  I  was  incapable 
of  descending  to  subjects  of  an  ordinary  nature.  Leaning 
far  forward  on  the  table,  with  a  smile  more  ecstatic  than 
any  that  had  gone  before,  she  directed  these  words  at  me 
in  a  clear,  swift-flowing  treble  : 

"Oh,  ain't  it  dreadful  about  them  poor  delewded 
Mormons?  " 

"Why?"  I  exclaimed,  involuntarily,  blinded  by 
the  absolute  unexpectedness  of  the  question,  and  not 
knowing,  in  a  dearth  of  daily  papen,  but  that  the  in 
fatuated  people  alluded  to  had  been  swallowed  up  of 
an  earthquake,  or  fallen  in  a  body  into  the  Great  Salt 
Lake. 

"  Oh,  nothing  !  "  said  Mrs.  Norris,  "  only  I  think  it's 
dreadful,  don't  yew,  settin'  such  an  example  to  Christian 
nations?" 

"  Dreadful !  certainly  ! "  I  murmured,  with  intense 
relief,  and  allowed  my  glasses  to  drop  into  my  lap  again. 

Thus  the  conversation  turned  to  subjects  of  a  religious 
nature. 

"  Oh,  I  think  it's  so  nice  to  have  direct  dcalin's  with 


156  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

the  Almighty;  don't  yew?  "  said  Mrs.  Norris.  "  Oh,  I 
think  it  is  !  Brother  Mark  Norris  says  he  can  hear 
the  Lord  speakin'  to  him  jest  as  plain  as  they  could  in 
Old  Testament  times;  oh,  yes,  jest  as  plain  exactly; 
Abraham  and  all  them,  yew  know  !  And  brother  Mark 
Norris  generally  means  to  go  to  Sunday  school.  He 
says  he  thinks  it's  so  interestin' ;  but  it's  sich  an  *wful 
ways.  Don't  yew  think  it  is?  Oh,  yes,  it's  a  dreadful 
ways  !  He  don't  always.  But  yew  remember  that  Satur 
day  we  had  sich  a  dreadful  storm  ?  oh,  was  n't  it  dreadful ! 
Oh,  yes  !  Well,  the  next  day,  that  was  Sunday,  brother 
Mark  Norris  said  he  heard  the  Lord  sayin'  to  him,  jest  as 
plain  as  day,  *  Mark  Norris,  don't  you  go  to  Sunday 
school  to-day  !  You  stay  home  and  pick  up  laths  ! '  and 
he  did,  and  oh,  he  got  a  dreadful  pile  !  most  ten  dollars 
worth  ;  but  I  think  it's  so  nice,  don't  yew,  to  have  direc* 
dealin's  with  the  Almighty  !  " 

The  Norrises,  by  the  way,  were  regarded  with  a  sort  of 
contemptuous  toleration  by  the  Wallencampers  in  general, 
on  account  of  their  thrift  and  penuriousness,  the  branded 
qualities  of  sordid  and  unpoetic  natures. 

I  was  sorry  when  the  brief  hour  of  the  noon  intermission 
was  over,  and  I  had  to  go  back  to  school. 

But  at  night  the  Ark  became  alive.  Soon  after  supper, 
Mr.  Norris  arrived  and  "brother  Mark  Norris"  andNoel. 
Then  the  little  room  began  to  fill  rapidly.  We  adjourned 
to  the  "parlor  "  and  the  melodeon. 

"  Oh,  I  do  think  them  plaster  Paris  picters  are  so 
beautiful,  don't  yew?"  said  Mrs.  Norris,  enraptured 
over  a  statuette  or  two  of  that  truly  vague  description, 
which  adorned  the  mantel-piece.  But  she  became  per 
fectly  lost  in  delight  when  Noel  began  to  sing. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  157 

Noel's  was  the  one  execrable  voice  among  the  Wallen- 
campers  —  if  anything  so  weak  could  be  designated  by 
so  strong  a  term  —  and  his  manner  of  keeping  time  with 
his  head  was  clock-like  in  its  regularity  and  painfully 
arduous,  yet,  out  of  that  pristine  naughtiness  which  found 
a  hiding  place  in  the  hearts  of  the  Wallencamp  youth, 
Noel  was  frequently  encouraged  to  come  to  the  front  during 
their  musicals,  and  if  not  actually  beguiled  into  executing 
a  solo,  was  generously  applauded  in  the  performance  of 
minor  parts.  There  was  comfort,  however,  in  the  reflec 
tion  that  if  Noel  had  indeed  possessed  the  tuneful  gift  of  a 
Heaven-elected  artist,  he  could  not  have  been  so  su 
premely  confident  of  the  merit  of  his  own  performances, 
nor  could  his  mother  have  been  more  delighted  at  their 
brilliancy.  She  sat  with  hands  clasped  in  her  lap  and 
gazed  at  her  manly  offspring. 

"  Oh,  I  do  think  it's  so  beautiful  1 "  she  murmured 
occasionally  to  me,  aside.  "  Oh,  yes,  ain't  it  beautiful  ?  " 

Once,  she  remarked  in  greater  confidence,  "  Oh,  he's 
dreadful  wild  ! " 

"Noel  ?  "  I  enquired,  with  impulsive  incredulity. 

"  Oh,  dreadful !  "  she  continued.  "  I  don't  know  what 
he'd  a  ben  if  we  had  n't  always  restrained  him.  But 
somehow,  I  think  there's  something  dreadful  bewitchin* 
about  such  folks.  Don't  yew?  " 

"  Very,"  I  answered  with  vague,  though  ardent  sym 
pathy. 

"  Oh,  dreadful  !  "  she  responded. 

Meanwhile  the  perspiration  stood  out  on  Noel's  grave 
countenance,  and  his  head  like  a  laborious  sledge  hammer 
was  swaying  mechanically  backward  and  forward. 

"Sing  bass,  now, Noel,"  said  Mrs.  Norris;  and  the  ex- 


158  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

pression  of  awed  delight  and  expectancy  on  her  face,  as 
she  uttered  these  words,  was  a  rebuke  to  all  cynics  and  un 
believers  of  any  sort  whatever. 

"  Yes'm  so  I  will,  certainly,"  saidNoel,  "so  I  will,  and 
if  I  had  n't  got  such  a  cold,  I'd  come  down  heavy  on  it 
too." 

"  What  do  you  think,"  Mrs.  Morris  went  on  in  the 
same  confidential  aside  to  me.  "He's  took  it  into  his 
head  that  he  wants  to  get  married  !  Oh,  yes,  he  has 
really  !  and  I  think  it's  a  wonder  he  never  got  set  on  it 
before.  But  he  never  has  so  but  what  we  could  restrain 
him.  But  William  and  I,  we're  beginning  to  think  he 
might  as  well  if  he  wants  to.  Oh,  yes,  I  think  it  will  be  so 
nice.  Don't  yew  ?  I  think  it  will  be  just  splendid  !  And 
I  tell  William,  Noel's  wife  shan't  do  nothing  but  set  in  the 
parlor  and  fold  her  hands,  if  she  don't  want  to,  and  she 
shall  have  a  music,  and  everything.  When  we  built  our 
new  house,  you  know  we  used  to  live  in  that  little  house 
that  brother  Mark  Norris  lives  in  now,  oh,  yes,  and  1 
think  it's  so  nice  to  have  a  new  house,  don't  yew  ?  I  had 
'em  make  the  window  seats  low  on  purpose,  so  that  Noel's 
children  could  sit  on  them  !  Oh,  I  think  it  will  be  so 
pleasant,  don't  yew?" 

Mrs.  Norris  turned  her  enraptured  gaze  on  me. 

"Noel's  wife,"  I  hastened  to  reply,  toying  with  my 
glasses,  "  whoever  she  may  be,  is  certainly  to  be  envied  — 
and  Noel's  children  too  " —  I  added,  induced  by  that 
transcendently  beaming  smile,  "  who  will  have  such  a 
broad  window  seat  to  sit  on." 

Never  an  evening  began  in  heartier  fashion  at  the  Ark. 

George  Olver,  standing  next  to  Ethel,  rolled  out  a 
grand  and  powerful  bass. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  159 

Lars  Thorjon,  the  Norwegian,  maintained  a  smiling 
silence,  except  when  he  was  giving  utterance  in  song  to 
his  inspiring  tenor. 

Abagail  played  the  "  music." 

I  saw  her  wince  sometimes,  when  the  fine  though  un 
tutored  voices  around  her  took  on  a  too  wild  and  exuberant 
strain.  The  little  woman's  own  voice  was  exceedingly 
gentle  and  refined,  more  than  that,  it  had  a  passionately 
sweet  sad  tone,  a  rare  pathos.  I  used  to  wonder 
what  there  was  in  Abagail's  heart  —  what  there  had  been 
in  her  life  —  to  make  her  sing  so.  Then  I  remembered 
how  easy  it  was  for  her  to  get  out  of  temper,  and  how 
often  she  slapped  the  children,  and  I  concluded  that  it 
was  only  a  voice  after  all,  and  not  necessarily  indicative  of 
any  inward  sentiment  or  emotion. 

And  the  mischievous  Noah — could  it  be  the  same 
youth  who  stood  there  now  with  tearful  eyes,  chanting  his 
longings  to  be  pure  and  sanctified  and  heavenly.  This 
merry  youth  had  a  predilection  for  those  religious  songs 
which  contained  the  deepest  and  saddest  sentiment. 

"  Now,  what's  the  matter  with  you,  Noah  ?  "  said  Emily 
Gaskell,  who  had  but  just  dropped  in. 

"You  know  you'll  go  along  hum  to-night  stunin*  my 
cats  !  You  know  what  a  precious  nice  time  you're  calcu- 
latin'  to  have  about  two  months  from  now,  up  in  my  trees 
stealin'  my  peaches,  you  young  devil.  '  Wash  you  from 
your  sins  !  '  Humph  !  Yes,  you  need  it  bad  enough, 
Lord  knows  !  A  good  poundin',  and  boilin',  and  sudzin', 
you  need— and  a  good  soakin'  in  the  bluein'  water 
over  night,  too." 

Emily's  eyes  sparkled  with  keen  though  good  natured 
satire.  There  was  a  flood  of  crimson  color  in  her  cheeks, 


160  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

not  entirely  the  effect  of  her  brisk  walk  in  the  open  air. 
She  had  a  spasm  of  coughing  which  she  endured  as 
though  such  discomforts  had  become  quite  a  matter  of 
course,  merely  remarking  when  she  had  recovered  herself 
sufficiently  to  speak  : 

" Thar,  that'  11  last  me  for  one  spell  I  guess." 

"  Won't  you  set,  Emily?  "  said  Grandma. 

"  No,"  said  Emily.  "  I  can't.  I  jest  come  up  to  tell 
my  man,  there,  to  go  home  !  Levi  is  over  from  West 
VVallen,  and  want's  to  see  him.  Lord,  I  didn't  know 
you'd  got  a  party,  Miss  Spicer  !  "  she  continued,  glancing 
with  an  irresistibly  comical  expression  about  the  room. 

"  Oh,  no  !  we  ain't  got  no  party,"  said  Grandma  Spicer, 
pleasantly.  "  They  jest  happened  to  drop  in  along." 

"  Wall  now,  I  should  think  there'd  ben  a  shower  and 
rained  'em  all  down  at  once,"  again  surveying  the 
occupants  of  the  room  with  a  comprehensively  critical  air 
that  was  hardly  flattering. 

"  I  don't  see  what  on  'arth  ! "  she  went  on.  "  Half  the 
time  you  might  ransack  Wail  encamp  from  top  to  bottom 
and  you'd  find  everybody  a' most  somewhere,  and  nobody 
to  hum  !  It  ain't  much  like  the  cake  Silvy  made  last 
week  —  she's  crazier  than  ever — 'Where's  the  raisins 
Silvy?  '  says  I — 1  always  make  it  chock  full  of  'em,  and 
there  was  n't  one, —  '  Oh,'  says  Silvy,  '  I  mixed  'em  up  so 
thorough  you  can't  a  hardly  find  'em.'  '  I  guess  that's 
jest  about  the  way  the  Lord  put  the  idees  into  your  head, 
Silvy,'  says  I.  '  Bless  the  Lord  ! '  says  that  poor  fool,  as 
slow  and  solemn  as  a  minister." 

"  We've  been  a  singin',"  interposed  Grandma  Spicer  in 
a  voice  that  contrasted  with  Emily's,  like  the  flow  of  a 
great  calm  river  with  the  impatient  fall  of  a  cataract. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  161 

"  It  seems  a'  most  as  though  I'd  been  in  Heaven.  They 
was  jest  a  singm' — '  The  Light  of  the  World  is  Jesus.1  I 
shall  never  forgit,  when  I  was  down  to  camp  meetin'  to 
Marthy's  Vin'yard  a  good  while  ago  —  there  was  a  little 
blind  boy  stud  up  on  a  bench  and  sung  it  all  alone,  and 
it  made  me  cry  to  see  him  standin'  there  with  his  pool 
little  white  face,and  eyes  that  could  n't  see  a'  one  of  all  the 
faces  lookin'  up  to  him,  a  singin'  that  out  as  bold  and  free, 
and  he  did  pronounce  the  words  so  beautiful  so  as  every 
body  could  hear  —  I  can  hear  him  a  singin'  of  it  out, 
now  —  <  The  Light  of  the  World  is  Jesus.'  And  1  suppose 
we  git  to  thin  kin'  that  the  light's  in  our  eyes,  maybe, 
or  the  light's  in  the  sun,  or  the  light's  in  the  lamp,  maybe. 
But  you  might  put  out  rny  eyes," — said  Grandma  Spicer, 
closing  her  eyes  as  she  spoke,  and  looking  very  peaceful 
and  happy — "and  you  might  put  out  the  sun,  and  you 
might  put  out  the  lamp,  and  say  —  'Thar,  Almiry's  all  in 
the  dark  room,  she  can't  see  nothin'  now  ' — but  the  Light 
of  the  World  'ud  be  thar  jest  the  same,  you  could  n't  put 
out  the  light  — 'The  Light  of  the  World  is  Jesus.'  " 

"  Oh,  I  did  n't  know  ye  was  havin'  a  meetin',"  said 
Emily  Gaskell,  mockingly. 

"No  more  we  ain't,  Emily" — said  Grandma  Spicer. 
"  We  was  jest  cheerin'  ourselves  up  a  little,  singin'  about 
home.  Come  you,  now,  and  sing  with  us :" 

"  We're  goin'  home 
No  more  to  roam." 

With  eyes  still  closed,  with  head  thrown  back,  and  a 
heavenly  serene  expression  on  her  face,  Grandma  began 
the  refrain,  while  Abagail  struck  the  cords  on  the 
melodeon  and  the  singers  took  up  the  words  with  a 
hearty  cheer : 


163  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  We're  goin'  home 

No  more  to  roam, 
No  more  to  sin  and  sorrow, 

No  more  to  wear, 

The  brow  of  care, 
We're  going  home  to-morrow,** 

Then  the  chorus,  "We're  going  home,"  joyfully 
repeated,  died  away  at  last,  more  plaintively,  "  We're 
going  home  to-morrow." 

"  Wall,  I'm  goin'  home  to-night,"  said  Emily,  and, 
as  I  looked  up  at  her,  I  caught  the  same  mischievous 
gleam  in  her  unsoftened  eyes.  "  So  strike  up  something 
lively,  now,  and  I  '11  waltz  down  the  lane  to  it.  *  Are  Your 
windows  open  towards  Jerusalem?' — Lord,  can't  you  think 
o'  something  warmer  than  that  for  this  weather  ?  " 

But  the  singers  were  going  on  gloriously  : 

M  Are  your  windows  open  towards  Jerusalem? 
Though  His  captives  hcie  a  little  while  stay, 
For  the  coming  of  the  King  in  His  glory, 
Are  you  watching,  day  by  day  ?  " 

Emily  tightened  the  shawl  around  her  neck  with  a 
quick  motion.  In  going  out,  she  took  an  indirect 
course  through  the  room,  purposely  to  pass  by  where 
I  was  sitting. 

"Are   your  windows  open  towards  Jerusalem?"   said 

she,  stooping  and  whispering  in  my  ear,  "  El'  Turner's 

out  there  hangin'  onto  the  fence  one  side  the  bushes,  and 

Ben  Cradlebow     the   other,   and   they  don't  see  each 

other  no  more  than  two  bats." 

"  Are  your  windows  open  towards  Jerusalem,"  was 
a  favorite  with  the  Wallencampers.  On  this  occasion, 
they  repeated  it  several  times.  Captain  Sartell  and 
Bachelor  Rae,  who  had  been  engaging  in  a  game  of 
checkers,  in  the  little  kitchen,  left  the  board  as  the  well- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  163 

loved  strains  greeted  their  ears,  and  came  in  to  join  the 
group. 

Grandpa  had  been  consigned  to  the  kitchen  stove,  with 
a  corn-popper.  I  do  not  think  that  he  regretted  being 
removed,  somewhat,  from  the  more  inspiring  scenes  which 
animated  the  Ark,  I  was  amused  to  follow,  with  my  ear, 
the  old  gentleman's  progress  in  the  successive  stages  of 
his  corn-shelling  and  corn-popping  operations,  with 
certain  contingent  misfortunes,  as  when  he  went  into 
the  pantry  to  look  for  a  pan,  and  brought  down  a 
large  quantity  of  tin  ware  clanging  about  his  ears, 
and  rolling  in  all  directions  over  the  floor,  while  I 
immediately  inferred  from  the  tones  of  his  voice  that  he 
was  enjoying  a  little  unembarrassed  colloquy  with  the 
powers  of  darkness.  Once,  in  his  shuffling  peregrinations, 
he  tipped  over  the  little  bench  which  sustained  the  water 
pail.  A  deep  sigh  of  horror  and  despair  escaped  his  lips, 
and  was  followed  by  a  "  What  the  Devil!"  borne  in 
upon  the  song-laden  air  with  unmistakable  force  and 
distinctness. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  ma,"  said  Abagail,  looking 
up,  sharply,  "  what  can  pa  be  a'  doin'  ?  " 

"Oh,"  calmly  said  Grandma  Spicer,  "I  guess  he's 
only  settlin'  down." 

And  with  Grandma,  indeed,  the  turmoils  of  this  sub 
lunary  sphere  implied  only  a  vast  ultimate  settling 
down. 

But  if  such  deep  rest  came  to  Grandpa,  it  was  only  as  a 
dream  from  which  he  was  soon  to  be  rudely  awakened. 

The  sound  of  his  footsteps  had  ceased.  I  knew  that 
he  was  seated  in  his  chair  by  the  fire,  and  I  heard 
the  long-handled  popper  shaken  back  and  forth  upon  the 


164  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

stove,  at  first  as  if  moved  by  the  power  of  a  steadfast 
purpose.  But  the  sound  grew  fainter,  the  motions  less 
regular.  They  were  several  tiroes  desperately  renewed, 
and  then  ceased  altogether,  so  quickly  had  Grandpa 
soared  beyond  the  low  vicissitudes  of  a  corn-popping 
world.  Soon  a  burning  smell  arose.  Then  the  door 
of  the  kitchen  opened.  Grandpa  was  startled.  I  knew 
the  catastrophe.  The  corn-popper  with  its  contents 
had  been  precipitated  to  the  floor.  Then  I  heard  a 
courteous  male  voice,  with  just  a  touch  of  suppressed 
merriment  in  it : 

"  Never  mind,  Captain  !  small  business  for  you,  steering 
such  a  slim  craft  as  that,  eh  ?     On  a  red  hot  stove,  too  !  " 
"  Humph  !     Top  mast  heavier  than  the  hull,"  replied 
Grandpa,  accepting  with  gratitude,  in  this  extremity,  the 
sympathy  of  the  new  comer. 
The  other  gave  a  low  laugh. 

"Never  mind,  Captain  !  "  he  repeated,  "we'll  have  it 
slick  here  in  a  minute.  Let  me  take  the  broom.  You've 
got  it  wrong  side  up.  By  Harry,  we've  got  the  deluge 
inside  the  Ark,  this  time,  Captain  ! " 

"Tarnal  water  pail  slipped  moorin's,"  confessed 
Grandpa. 

Then  followed  a  vigorous  sound  of  corn  rattling, 
and  water  swashing  against  the  sides  of  the  room,  and 
I  knew  that  Mr.  Turner,  the  elegant,  was  sweeping 
out  the  kitchen  of  the  Ark. 

"I  guess  they's  somebody  else  come,"  exclaimed 
Grandma,  with  hospitable  glee.  "Wall,  I  declare  for 't. 
I  guess  I'll  go  out  into  my  kitchen,  and  git  that  little 
no-back  cheer.  Seems  to  me  as  though  we'd  got  all  the 
rest  on  'em  in  use,  pretty  much." 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  165 

"  I  '11  go,  ma,"  said  A  bagail .  "  Teacher  '11  be  wanted  to 
play  now,  and  may  be  she  will,  though  she  can't  be  got  to 
do  it  for  common  folks." 

I  did  not  enjoy  playing  on  Abagail's  melodeon.  Any 
performances  of  that  kind  which  I  had  undertaken  had 
been  confined  exclusively  to  an  audience  of  the  VVallen- 
campers.  I  had  certainly  never  made  an  exception 
for  tne  amusement  of  the  fisherman.  But  I  flattered 
myself  that  there  was  no  trace  of  resentment  in  my  tone, 
when  I  said,  "  Sit  still,  Abbie,  please,  I  know  where  the 
chair  is.  Don't  I,  Grandma  ?  "  and  was  groping  my  way 
out  through  the  green  curtained  "  keepm' "  rooms, 
towards  Grandma's  culinary  apartment,  thankful  for  a 
momentary  escape  from  the  heated  atmosphere  of  the 
"parlor,"  when  I  heard  just  behind  me,  a  voice  of  the 
most  exquisite  smoothness  : 

"  Miss  Hungerford,  allow  me." 

"  Mr.  Turner  !  "  I  exclaimed,  with  an  overwhelming 
sense  of  the  ludicrousness  of  the  situation,  "  How  dare 
you  come  through  the  room  where  they  were  all  sitting, 
and  follow  me  out  here  !  Did  Grandma  tell  you  that 
I  had  gone  after  a  little  no -back  chair  for  you  to  sit 
on?" 

"  She  did,"  replied  Mr.  Tamer,  with  impressive  gravity, 
"and  I  took  it  as  most  divinely  kind  of  you,  too  ;  though, 
if  1  might  be  allowed  any  choice  in  the  matter,  I  think 
I  should  be  likely  to  assume  a  much  more  graceful 
and  more  easeful  and  natural  position  in  a  chair  con 
structed  after  the  ordinary  pattern,  Miss  Hungerford, 
especially  as  after  my  exertions  in  the  kitchen,  1  feel  the 
need  of  entire  repose." 

"But  this   is    the   only  one    l£ft,"  I   answered,  with 


168  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

suppressed   laughter.      "Do    you    think  you  can    find 
it,  Mr.  Turner?" 

"  If  you  should  leave  me,  now,"  replied  the  fisherman 
"I  should  have  positively  no  idea  whither  to  direct 
my  steps." 

"Then  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  get  it  for  you,"  I 
said. 

"But  I  could  not  think,"  he  continued,  "of  allowing 
you  to  pursue  your  \vay  through  this  utter  darkness  to 
the  extreme  rear  of  the  Ark  alone.  I  beg  you  to  show 
me  the  way." 

I  was  not  disposed  to  commit  so  gross  an  impropriety 
as  to  linger  with  Mr.  -Turner  in  "Grandma's  kitchen," 
which  we  had  reached,  and  through  whose  broad,  un 
curtained  windows  the  moonlight  was  pouring  in  with  a 
clear,  fantastic  radiance. 

"Isn't  this  glorious!"  exclaimed  the  fisherman  in  a 
tone  nearly  as  rapturous  as  Mrs.  N orris's  own.  "  Oh,  you 
don't  think  of  going  back,  now,  Miss  Hungerford  !  After 
I've  mopped  the  kitchen  floor,  and  braved  all  Wallencamp 
in  its  lair,  and  groped  my  way  out  through  these  infernally 
black  rooms,  for  the  chance  of  having  a  few  quiet  words 
with  you." 

Mr.  Turner's  eyes  were  not  snaky,  nor  his  manner 
suggestive  of  dark  duplicity,  yet  I  always  felt  a  certain 
unaccountable  discomfort  while  in  his  presence,  as  though 
there  was  need  of  keeping  my  own  conscience  particularly 
on  the  alert. 

1  knew  that  the  group  in  the  parlor  would  be  counting 
the  moments  of  our  absence. 

"How  can  you  ask  me — "  I  began,  in  a  tone  of 
Cheerful  remonstrance,*  at  the  same  time  re-adjusting 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  167 

my  glasses  to  glance  about  for  the  little  "no  back" 
chair  — 

"  How  can  you  ask  me  to  stay  out  here  talking  with 
you,  when  you  know " 

"Oh,  I  know,"  Mr  Turner  interrupted  quickly.  "I 
know  how  very  thoughtful  and  considerate  you  are  for 
those  people,  Miss  Hungerford.  I  know  what  lofty 
ideas  you  have  just  now  of  consecrating  yourself  to 
the  work  of  refining  and  elevating  the  Wallencampers. 
I  know  how  coolly  you  can  fix  your  eyes  on  a  certain 
goal  and  stumble  indiscriminately  over  everything 
that  comes  in  your  way.  I  know  what  a  deucedly 
superior  state  of  mind  you've  gotten  into.  I  know  too 
about  Miss  B's  school,  and  Miss  L's  school,  and  the 
Seminary  at  Mount  Blank,  and  the  winters  in  New  York." 

There  was  triumph  at  the  last,  in  Mr.    Turner's  tone. 

"  You  have  taken  pains  to  collect  a  great  deal  of 
information  about  me,"  I  replied,  virtuously  conclud 
ing  that  I  should  disappoint  the  fisherman  more  by  not 
appearing  vexed. 

"Is  it  strange?"  he  continued  earnestly,  with  an 
unconscious  parody  on  his  usually  suave  and  insinuat 
ing  manner.  "You  will  allow,  Miss  Hungerford,  that 
you  might  strike  one,  at  first,  as  not  being  exactly 
in  the  ordinary  line  of  home  missionaries,  that  is,  as  not 
having  been  trained  for  the  work,  exactly,  a  sort  of 
novitiate,  I  mean  —  Confound  it!  You  will  allow  that 
you  might  strike  one  at  first,  as  being  deucedly  new  in 
that  role." 

After  this,  I  smiled  with  a  faintly  malicious  sense  of 
satisfaction  at  Mr.  Turner's  confusion,  though  I  felt 
that  I  had  been  cut  to  the  heart. 


168  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"And  when  I  spoke  about  having  found  out  about 
your  past  life,"  he  went  on,  struggling  desperately  with 
his  lost  cause,  '*  I  did  n't  mean  that  there  was  anything 
bad,  you  know,  only  that  you  sought  pleasant  diversions 
in  common  with  the  rest  of  humanity  and  enjoyed  the 
Heaven-born  instinct  of  knowing  how  to  have  a  good 
time,  and  weren't  always  the  ambitious  recluse  and 
religious  devotee  that  you  choose  to  be  just  at  present, 
though  I've  sometimes  wished  that  I  could  turn  saint 
so  all  of  a  sudden,  but  I  could  n't,"  added  the  fisher 
man  despondently;  "if  I  should  go  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth  in  that  capacity,  nobody  'd  take  any  stock 
in  me,  whatever ;  and,  after  all,  what  does  it  amount 
to?" 

"This  isn't  what  I  meant  to  say,  any  of  it;"  he 
sighed  angrily.  "It's  just  what  I  meant  not  to  say  — 
Confound  it !  You've  done  gloriously  ;  you've  played 
the  thing  through  to  perfection ;  you've  made  an 
inimitable  success  of  it;  but  Wallencamp  doesn't 
offer  scope  wide  enough  for  your  powers.  1  offer  you 
a  field  hitherto  untilled,  left  to  the  wandering  winds 
and  the  birds  of  the  air,  extensive  enough  in  its  for 
lorn  iniquity,  I  assure  you,  to  engage  your  patient  and 
continued  efforts.  It  may  prove  productive  of  good 
results  yet,  who  knows?  Is  it  my  fault  that  I  didn't 
know  you  sooner?  " 

I  did  not  mistake  the  change  in  Mr.  Turner 's  tone, 
nor  the  meaning  in  his  eyes,  but  as  we  stood  there  by 
the  window,  in  the  full  moonlight,  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  another  face  outside,  vanishing  up  the  lane, —  almost 
like  a  ghostly  apparition  it  seemed  to  me —  the  hand 
some,  pale  young  face.  I  guessed  instinctively  whose 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  169 

it  was,  and  suffered  a  pang  of  sharp,  unconfessed  pain, 
while  the  fisherman  was  murmuring  in  my  ear. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  again  of  missions !  "  I  crier! 
with  the  strong  and  tragic  air  of  consciously  blighted 
aspirations.  "  I  shall  go  on  no  more  missions,  great 
or  small.  It  is  very  true  what  you  have  tried  so  deli 
cately  to  intimate.  I  was  not  fit  for  the  work  I  under 
took  to  do.  I  have  only  made  mistakes  all  the  way 
along.  Possibly  I  have  been  only  4  playing  a  part.' 
What  does  it  amount  to,  indeed!  What  does  it 
amount  to !  " 

"  Heavens  !  "  said  Mr.  Turner,  "  play  a  part,  by  all 
means  ;  never  be  sincere  in  anything  you  do.  I  never 
tried  it  but  once,  and  I've  made  a  desperate  mess  of  it. 
Can't  you  understand  that  what  I  said  was  only  in  the 
purest  sort  of  self-defence?  You  weigh  my  words  so 
nicely.  Well,  you  are  considerate  enough,  God  knows, 
of  those  dirty  brats  and  ignorant  louts  —  coddling 
that  girl,  Ethel,  who  is  a  good-hearted  creature  enough, 
but  not  fit  for  respectable  people  to  touch  their  hands 
to,  and  associating  with  such  conceited  boors  as  that 
George  Olver,  and  that  grinning  clown,  Noah,  and 
that  poor  fool,  Noel  Norris,  and  that  what-d'ye-call- 
him—  that  fiddling  young  devil  with  the  bird -like 
name  —  " 

Mr.  Turner  stopped  suddenly. 

^  "You  might  make  allowances  for  a  man  in  a  pas 
sion,"  he  said,  "  instead  of  dissecting  his  words  in  that 
cold  blooded  way." 

"  i  have  no  notion  of  dissecting  your  words,"  I  said, 
provoked  into  a  desperate  honesty ;  "  I  believe  them, 
as  a  whole,  to  be  utterly  false." 


170  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  From  the  very  beginning,"  said  Mr.  Turner, 
"  thank  you ;  so  I  can  begin  all  over  again ;  mean 
while, —  you  will  forgive  me?  Imagine  that  I'm  one 
of  those  dirty  little  beggars  that  go  to  school  to  you. 
If  one  of  them  should  come  to  you  and  say  that  he 
was  sorry  —  ?  " 

"  I  should  only  be  intensely  surprised,"  I  said ;  "  they 
never  do  such  things." 

"  Then  I  have  a  superior  claim  on  your  clemency," 
said  the  fisherman,  "for  I  am  sorry  and  humiliate  my 
soul  to  the  lowest  depths  of  the  confessional." 

It  was  the  voice  of  the  plausible,  easy-going  fisher 
man  again. 

My  hand  was  on  the  latch.  "I  am  not  angry;  I 
would  rather  be  friends,"  I  said  with  averted  face,  as 
we  were  returning  through  the  dark  "kccpm'-rooms." 

"When  you  get  out  of  this  realm  of  myths  and  mis 
sions,  and  general  dread  and  discomfort,"  said  Mr. 
Turner,  "  on  to  comprehensible  soil  again  where  ordi 
nary  sinners  are  sure  of  some  sort  of  a  footing, —  and 
bad  as  a  fellow  is,  he  knows  there  are  plenty  more  like 
him, — then  I  shan't  appear  to  you  in  such  a  dcuccclly 
poor  light  as  I  do  now,  a  doubtful  sort  of  pearl  in 
a  setting  of  isolated  cedars,  with  my  beauty  and  my 
genius  and  my  heavenly  aspirations  all  unappreciated, 
or  made  to  descend  as  a  greater  measure  of  condem 
nation  on  my  devoted  auburn  head.  Truly,  I  believe 
that  an  evil  star  attends  my  course  in  Wallencamp. 
My  own  ideas  seem  strange  to  me.  I  cannot  grasp 
them.  My  language  is  wild  and  disconnected,  I  fancy, 
like  that  of  the  early  Norse  poets.  When  I  meet  you 
in  the  world,  I  shall  hope  to  recover  some  of  the  old- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  171 

time  coherence  and  felicity  of  speech  which  I  remem 
ber  to  have  heard  practiced  among  the  world's  people, 
and  it  is  n't  long  now,  thank  Heaven  !  before  you'll  leave 
Wallencamp  behind  you.  When  you  go  home — " 

When  I  should  go  home,  indeed !  I  had  hardly 
dared  to  cherish  the  thought.  I  stifled  the  rising  flood 
of  exultation  in  my  breast  —  but  how  pale  and  inter 
esting  I  should  look !  And,  then,  I  would  describe 
Wallencamp  to  my  own  loving  friends  as  it  really 
was,  and  what  a  lion  they  would  make  of  me !  Had 
they  not  always  lionized  my  virtuous  eflorts  to  the 
fullest  extent ! 

My  face  must  have  been  very  happy  in  the  dark. 
I  felt  even  almost  kindly  towards  Mr.  Turner.  We 
were  at  the  last  door.  As  we  entered  the  lighted 
room,  Grandma's  broad  face  began  to  beam  with  slow 
surprise.  "  Why,"  said  she,  4<  where's  the  little  no- 
back  chair  ? " 

Mr.  Turner's  resources  in  such  extremities  usually 
bespoke  a  life-time  of  patient  and  adroit  application, 
but,  now.  he  hesitated.  The  accumulated  glory  of 
years  seemed  likely  to  be  wrecked  on  the  phantom  of 
a  little  no-back  chair. 

"Moonstruck?    Eh,  Mr.  Turner  ?"  inquired     Noah. 

The  fisherman  regarded  Noah  with  a  smile  of  quiet 
and  amused  sufferance. 

"  Ah  !  Mrs.  Spicer,"  said  he,  with  a  graceful  bow  in 
Grandma's  direction,  "  Mrs.  Ithamer  did  me  the 
honor  when  I  came  in,  to  ask  me  to  stand  up  with  the 
singers  at  the  mclodeon,  a  position  which  I  shall  be 
most  happy  to  take,  although  I  fear  that  my  voca) 
powers  are  of  an  exceptionally  poor  order." 


172  CAPE    COD    FOLKS, 

The  fisherman  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  despised 
Moody  and  Sankey  hymnal  for  Abagail,  was  pro 
foundly  attentive  while  the  singing  was  going  on,  and 
made  suave  and  affable  remarks  here  and  there  during 
the  intervals,  then  glanced  at  his  watch  with  an  ex 
pression  of  highly  affected  concern,  bade  an  elaborate 
adieu  to  the  company,  and  retired  from  the  scene. 

u  Oh,  I  think  that  Mr.  Turner  is  so  elegant,  don't 
yew  ?"  said  Mrs.  Norris.  "  Oh,  yes  ;  I  think  he's  so 
genteel ! " 

"/  don't  think  so  at  all,"  said  Noel.  "/  don't, 
certainly,  /don't  think  so." 

"  He  ain't  got  much  voice,"  said  Mrs.  Norris,  clasp 
ing  her  hands  in  raptured  appreciation  of  her  match 
less  Noel. 

Finally,  Grandpa,  with  a  haggard  smile  on  his 
features,  stumbled  across  the  little  landing  of  the  stair 
way,  between  the  parlor  and  the  kitchen,  bearing  with 
him  a  pan  of  much  scorched  and  battered  pop-corn. 

"Oh,  aint  them  beautiful!"  arose  Mrs.  N orris's  re 
assuring  cry. 

Grandma  had  already  set  an  example  to  her  guests 
by  making  a  convenient  receptacle  of  her  capacious 
lap,  and  pouring  some  of  the  corn  into  it,  an  example 
which  the  fortunate  scions  of  the  skirted  tribe,  now  ar 
ranged  in  rows  on  one  side  of  the  room,  followed,  each 
in  turn.  Of  the  male  species  on  the  other  side  of  the 
room,  Noel  happened  to  be  first  in  line.  As  the  corn 
oame  nearer  and  nearer  to  him,  he  began  to  look  about 
wildly,  and  to  cough.  His  legs  trembled  violently 
with  the  effort  he  was  making  to  keep  them  close  to 
gether.  He  accepted  the  pan  of  pop-corn  with  a  ges- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  173 

ture  of  feverish  haste,  and  proceeded  to  pour  the  con 
tents  into  his  lap,  but,  as  he  poured,  they  disappeared, 
and  the  faster  he  poured  the  faster  they  disappeared, 
and  the  more  strenuous  exertions  he  made  to  keep  his 
legs  close  together,  the  wider  seemed  to  grow  the 
chasm  through  which  the  corn  went  rattling  down  on 
to  the  floor,  until  Noel's  eyes  began  to  whirl  in  their 
orbits  and  drops  of  sweat  stood  out  upon  his  forehead. 

Noah,  who  appreciated  the  situation  and  was  burst 
ing  with  a  desire  to  roar  out  his  mirthful  emotions, 
showed  a  kind  heart  above  all,  and  turned  the  tables 
nicely  in  poor  Noel's  behalf. 

"Look  here,  Noel!"  he  cried,  "that's  a  pretty  trick 
to  play  on  us  fellows,  you  rascal  1  you'd  better  let  up 
on  that,  now  !  " 

Noel  grasped  at  the  idea  as  a  drowning  man  might 
grasp  at  a  good  substantial  raft  that  should  come 
floating  down  his  way. 

"  T-that  's  so,"  he  stammered.  "  It  is  too  bad,  No 
ah.  It-t-t  is,  certainly,  but  anything  for  a  j-joke,  you 
know.  Here,  take  it  yourself,  Noah,  t-take  it;  take 
it,  quick ! " 

And  Noel  got  down  on  his  knees  as  though  he 
would  have  rendered  dumb  thanks  to  Heaven  for 
his  unexpected  deliverance,  and  proceeded  to  gather  up 
the  corn  with  glad  alacrity. 

After  this,  the  water  was  passed,  and,  at  such  times, 
it  was  always  comforting  to  consider  how  bountiful 
nature  had  been  in  this  respect  to  Wallencamp,  and 
that  the  demand  could  never  be  quite  equal  to  the 
supply. 

Then  the  company  began  to  disperse  with  many 


174  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

hand-shakings  and  "why  don't  ye  all  drop  into  my 
house,"  etc.,  etc. 

Noel  N  orris  came  back  twice  to  shake  hands  with  me 
and  returning  the  third  time,  got  lost,  somehow,  in  the 
general  confusion,  and  shook  hands  very  fervently  with 
his  mother,  who  was  standing  in  the  door. 

I  heard  one  of  the  departing  visitors  exclaim  :  "  Why 
where's  Ben  ?  I  should  a  thought  he'd  a  dropped  in,  sure  !" 

And  another  answered :  "  Oh,  he's  got  some  new 
notion  into  his  head,  I  reckon  !  goin'  on  a  cruise,  maybe  !" 

Ethel  was  going  out  with  a  girl  companion,  talking 
rather  loudly.  I  was  moved  to  take  her  hand  a  moment, 
gently  detaining  her.  She  looked  exceedingly  bright  and 
pretty.  Her  physical  beauty  was  perfect,  yet  I  believed 
that  the  soul  was  only  half  awakened  in  the  girl. 

So  as  I  held  her  hand  a  moment,  with  the  others  taking 
noisy  leave  about  us,  I  looked  into  her  face  with  what 
she  might  have  read  as  : — "  Were  n't  you  laughing  rather 
loudly,  my  dear?  I  can  see  now,  that  you  are  not  as 
happy  as  you  would  have  people  believe.  Why  not  con 
fide  in  me,  and  let  me  straighten  your  difficulty  out  for 
you?" 

But  Ethel's  eyes  were  downcast,  and  her  checks  crim 
son.  She  let  her  hand  slip  passively  out  of  mine,  and 
passed  on,  without  a  word. 

, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

NOEL   "POPS  THE  QUESTION." 

[NE  morning,  ere  we  had  breakfasted  at  the  Ark, 
Noel  Norris,  like  some  new-fangled  orb  of  day, 
was  seen  to  surmount  the  ruddy  verge  of  the 
horizon.  He  bore  a  gun  upon  his  shoulders,  and  ad 
vanced  with  a  singularly  martial  and  self-confident  tread. 
As  he  entered  the  Ark,  he  placed  the  gun  against  the 
wall,  and  sat  down  and  folded  his  arms,  and  looked  as 
though  he  could  be  brave  without  it. 

"  Well,  Abagail,"  said  he,  with  a  determined  gaze 
fixed  straight  before  him  on  vacuity,  and  with  a  desperate 
affectation  of  spontaneity  in  his  tone.  "Well,  Abagail, 
mother  arid  father  have  gone  to  Aunt  Larcia's, /suppose 
to  spend  a  week,  /  suppose — ahem  ! — ahem  ! — /  suppose 
so." 

"  You  don't  say  so,  Noel ! "  exclaimed  Abagail .  "  And 
what '11  poor  Robin  do  now, Noel?  Oh,  what '11  poor 
Robin  do  now?" 

"Yes,"  said  he  gravely,  "that's 'what  they  thought, 
ahem  !  Tliey  thought  they  should  stay  a  week,  they 
thought  so,  certainly." 


176  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  Wall,  I  declar'  for  't,Noel,"  said  Grandma.  "  Now 's 
the  time  you  'd  ought  to  have  a  wife.  Jest  to  think  how 
comf  table  'twould  be  fu  ye,  now,  instead  of  stayin'  there 
all  alone,  if  ye  only  had  a  nice  little  wife  to  home,  to  cook 
for  ye,  and  watch  for  ye,  and  keep  ye  company,  and " 

"/  think  so,"  exclaimed  Noel,  giving  a  quick  glance 
backward  in  the  direction  of  his  gun.  "  Certainly,  ahem  ! 
I  think  so.  /do." 

"  Lookin'  for  game  ?    Eh,Noel  ?  "  enquired  Grandpa. 

"  Pa,"  said  Grandma,  solemnly,  "  I  wish  you  'd  put 
another  stick  of  wood  in  the  stove." 

Grandpa  was  awake,  now,  and  a  youthful  and  satanic 
gleam  shone  from  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows  ;  he  glanced 
at  me,  too,  as  was  his  habit  on  such  occasions,  as  though 
I  had  a  sort  of  sympathy  for  and  fellowship  with  him  in 
his  bold  iniquities  of  speech. 

But  the  guileless  Noel  interpreted  not  the  deeper  mean 
ing  of  Grandpa's  words. 

"  I  think  some  of  it,  Cap'n,"  he  answered  unsmilingly, 
and  then  continued.  "  It 's  been  —  ahem  ! — it's  been  a 
very  mild  winter  on  the  —  ahem  !  —  I  should  say  on  the 
Cape.  It 's  been  a  very  mild  winter  on  the  Cape,  Miss 
Hungerford." 

Noel's  nervous  glance  falling  again  on  his  gun,  took  me 
in  wildly  on  the  way. 

I  had  been  directing  some  letters  that  I  expected  to 
have  an  opportunity  to  send  that  morning. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  said  looking  up.  "Yes,  you 
don't  often  have  such  mild  winters  on  the  Cape,  Mr. 
1\  orris!" 

"  No  'm  we  don't,"  said  Noel, "  not  very  often,  ahem  ! " 
He  moved  his  chair  a  peg  nearer  the  gun.  Quite  a— 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  177 

ahem !  —  quite  a  little  fall  of  snow  we  had  last  night,  Miss 
Hungerford." 

"  Any  deer  tracks?    Eh,Noel?  "  enquired  Grandpa. 

"  Pa,"  said  Grandma.     "  I  wish  you  'd  fill  Abigail  - 
seems  to  me  she  smells  sorter  dry." 

"  She  ain't,  for  sartin',  ma,"  replied  Grandpa,  giving  the 
tea-kettle  a  shake  to  verify  his  assertions,  "  and  Rachel's 
chock  full !  " 

Grandma  then  gave  Grandpa  a  meaning  look,  and  put 
her  fingers  on  her  lips. 

"Well,  Cap'n,  I  saw  more  rabbit  tracks,"  replied  Noel, 
innocently  amused  at  the  ludicrousness  of  the  old  Cap 
tain's  speech.  "  I  did,  rather — ahem  ! — yes,  I  saw  more 
rabbit  tracks  —  ahem  !  —  ahem  !  "  He  gave  his  chair  a 
desperate  hitch  gunward.  "  I  don't  suppose  they  ever 
do  such  a  thing,  where  you  live,  Miss  Hungerford,  as  to  go 
—  ahem!  —  to  go  sleigh  riding,  now,  do  they,  Miss 
Hungerford?" 

"  Why  yes,"  I  said.  "  They  always  do  in  the  winter, 
and  I  have  n't  been  home  through  the  winter  for  a  year  or 
two  past,  but  I  remember  what  splendid  times  we  used  to 
have." 

I  was  thinking  particularly  of  a  certain  snow-fall,  that 
came  when  I  was  seventeen  years  old,  and  John  Cable 
had  just  returned  from  College,  with  a  moustache  and 
patriarchal  airs. 

Some  grinning  recollections  of  the  past  were  also  float 
ing  through  Grandpa's  mind.  The  look  of  reprehensible 
mirth  was  still  in  his  eyes,  and  he  showed  his  teeth  which 
gleamed  oddly  white  and  strong  in  contrast  with  his 
grizzled  countenance. 

"  I  remember  "  —  he  began. 


178  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  Pa,"  said  Grandma,  with  an  expressive  wink  of  one 
eye,  and  only  part  of  her  face  visible  around  the  corner 
of  the  door-way,  through  which  Abagail  had  already 
disappeared. 

"  Pa —  I  wish  you'd  come  out  here  a  minute,  now — I 
want  to  see  ye." 

"Wall,  wall,  can't  ye  see  me  here,  ma?  What  makes 
ye  so  dreadful  anxious  to  see  me  all  of  a  sudden*  ?  "  en 
quired  Grandpa.  But  his  face  did  not  lose  its  thoughtful 
illumination.  "  Wall,  as  I  was  a  tellin'  ye,  teacher,"  he 
went  on.  "  I  was  only  a  little  shaver  then  —  a  little 
shaver  —  and  my  father  had  one  of  those  'ere  pungs,  as 
we  used  to  call  'em,  that  he  used  to  ride  around  in  —  and 
he  was  a  dreadful  man  to  swear,  my  father  was,  teacher — 
Lordy,  how  he  would  swear ! " 

"  Pa !  "  said  the  great  calm  voice  at  the  door.  "  I'm 
a'awaitin'  for  you  to  come  out,  so't  I  can  shet  the 
door." 

"  Wall,  wall,  ma,  shet  the  door  if  ye  want  to,  I've  no 

objections  to  havin'  the  door  shet and  we  had  an  old 

hoss,  teacher.  Lordy,  how  lean  he  was,  lean  as  a  skate, 
and " 

"HoggartySpicer!" 

"Yis,  yis,  I'm  a'comin',  ma,  I'm  a'cominV  And 
wonderful  indeed,  I  thought  must  have  been  the  tale, 
which,  even  under  these  exasperating  circumstances,  kept 
Grandpa's  face  a-grin  as  he  ran  and  shuffled  towards  the 
door. 

The  door  was  quickly  closed  behind  him  by  other 
hands  than  his  own,  and  then  I  observed  that  Noel's  chair 
had  been  drawn  into  (rightfully  close  proximity  to  his 
gun. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  179 

"I  —  I  think  it 's pleasanter,  that  is  —  I  —  I  sometimes 
think  it's  warmer  for  t-t-t\vo  in  a  sleigh,  than — a — 'tis — for 
one,  don't  you,  Miss  Hungerford?"  saidNoel,and  gasped 
for  breath  and  continued.  "  Now  I  think  of  it,  you  — 
you  wouldn't  think  of  such  a  thing  as  going  to  ride  with 
me  to-night,  would  you,  Miss  Hungerford?  You — you 
would  n't  think  of  such  a  thing,  would  you,  now?  " 

"  Why — if  you  are  kind  enough  to  invite  me  to  go 
sleigh  riding  with  you,  Mr.  Norris?" 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Noel,  grasping  his  gun,  and  becom 
ing  immediately  pale,  though  composed.  "Yes'm,  7 
think  so,  certainly,  /  do." 

"  Thank  you,  I  will  go  with  pleasure,"  I  said. 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Hungerford,"  said  Noel,  rising 
hurriedly.  "I  wish  you  a  pleasant  day — /  do,  with 
pleasure,  and  I  hope  that  nothing  will  happen  to 
prevent ! " 

And  Noel  marched  back  across  the  fields  as  valiantly 
as  a  man  may,  who,  on  occasions  of  doubt  and  peril, 
takes  the  precaution  to  go  suitably  armed. 

During  the  day  the  Wallencampers  indulged  in  a  mode 
of  recreation,  suggestive  of  that  unique  sort  of  inspira 
tion  to  which  they  not  unfrequently  fell  victims. 

They  attached  a  horse  to  a  boat,  a  demoralized  old 
boat,  which  had  hitherto  occupied  a  modest  place  amid 
the  ddbris  surrounding  the  Ark,  and  thus  equipped, 
they  rode  or  sailed  up  and  down  the  lane. 

It  proved  a  stormy  sea,  and  often  as  the  boat  capsized, 
the  air  was  rent  with  screams  of  mock  terror  and  yells  of 
unaffected  delight. 

Thus  the  youth  of  Wallencamp,  yes,  and  those  who 
heeded  not  the  swift  decline  of  years,  by  reason  of  the 


180  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

immortal  freshness  of  their  spirits,  disported  themselves. 
And  I  was  not  amazed,  catching  a  glimpse  through  the 
school-house  windows  of  this  joyous  boat  on  one  of  her 
return  voyages  up  the  lane,  to  see  Grandma  Spicer  sway 
ing  wildly  in  the  stern. 

Mean \yhile,  I  managed  to  keep  my  flock  indoors.  But 
when,  at  four  o'clock,  I  took  my  ruler  in  hand  to  give  the 
usual  signal  of  dismissal,  the  Phenomenon's  heels  had 
already  vanished  through  the  window,  and  the  repressed 
animal  spirits  of  a  whole  barbaric  epoch  sounded  in  the 
whoop  with  which  the  Modoc  shot  through  the  door. 

Finally,  I,  myself,  rode  up  the  lane  in  the  boat.  The 
path  was  well  worn  by  this  time,  and  there  was  no  danger 
of  a  catastrophe.  It  seemed  to  me  a  novel  performance 
enough,  but  I  had  not  yet  been  to  ride  in  Noel's  sleigh. 

Noel  came  very  early,  and  preferred  to  wait  outside 
until  I  had  finished  eating  my  supper.  Then,  with  that 
deep  self-satisfaction  which  predominated  in  my  soul, 
even  over  its  appreciation  of  the  novel  and  amusing,  I 
donned  my  seal  brown  cloak,  and  stepping  out  of  the  door, 
gathered  up  my  skirts,  and  smiled  at  Mr.  Noel  with  a 
pair  of  seal  brown  eyes,  and  was  not  surprised  to  hear 
him  ejaculate,  coughing  slightly,  "Ahem!  /think  so, 
certainly,  yes  Jm,  /  think  so  ;  /do." 

Noel's  was  the  only  sleigh  in  Wallencamp,  and,  as  he 
informed  me,  it  was  one  "that  he  had  himself  constructed. 
It  ha  .1,  indeed,  already  suggested  to  my  mind  the  work 
ings  of  no  ordinary  intellect.  Perhaps  its  most  impres 
sive  features  were  its  lowness  and  its  height — the 
general  lowness  and  length  of  its  body,  into  which 
one  could  step  easily,  the  floor  being  covered  with 
*  carpet  of  straw  suggesting  field  mice,  and  the  unusual 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  181 

height  to  which  it  rose  in  the  back,  being  surmounted 
by  two  glittering  knobs,  like  those  on  the  head-board 
of  an  old-fashioned  bedstead.  Half-way  down  the 
back  of  this  imposing  structure  the  arms  or  wings 
sprouted  out,  giving  to  the  whole  the  appearance 
of  an  immense  Pterodactyl,  or  some  other  fossil 
bird  of  fabulous  proportions,  and  effectually  shutting  in 
the  occupants  of  the  sleigh  from  any  contemplation  of 
the  possible  charms  of  the  scenery.  The  seat  was 
made  very  low,  and  it  was,  perhaps,  on  this  account  that 
the  horse  seemed  so  abnormally  high.  It  was  a  white 
horse,  and  from  our  lowly  position,  there  seemed  to  be 
something  awful  and  shadowy  in  the  motions  of  its  legs. 
The  red  of  sunset  had  not  gone  out  of  the  sky  when 
we  started,  and  a  pale  young  moon  was  already  getting 
up  in  the  heavens,  but  we  could  see  neither  fading  sky 
nor  rising  moon,  nor  rock,  nor  tree,  nor  snowy  expanse, 
nought  but  the  gigantic  hoof-falls  of  our  phantom 
steed. 

Being  thus  hopelessly  debarred  from  any  communica 
tion  with  external  nature,  and  fearing  to  give  myself  up 
to  my  own  thoughts,  which  were  of  a  somewhat  danger 
ous  character,  I  endeavored  to  engage  my  companion 
in  lively  and  cheerful  converse  by  the  way ;  but  he  was 
in  a  position  of  actual  physical  suffering,  for  the  reins 
were  short  —  too  short,  that  is,  to  form  a  happy  connect 
ing  link  between  him  and  the  horse,  and  poor  Noel  was 
obliged  to  lean  forward  at  an  acute  angle  in  order  to 
grasp  them  at  all.  Whenever  the  ghostly  quadruped 
made  a  plunge  forward,  as  he  not  unfrequently  did,  Noel 
was  thrust  violently  down  into  the  straw,  and  throughout 
*11  this  he  comported  himself  with  such  firm  and  hope- 


183  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

less  dignity  that,  with  the  respect  due  to  suffering,  I 
was  moved  to  witness  the  struggle,  at  length,  with  silent 
commiseration.  Once,  having  kept  his  seat  for  a  longer 
time  than  usual,  Noel  said: 

"I'll  give  you  a  riddle,  Miss  Hungerford,  /will. 
Ahem  ! '  why  —  why  does  a  hen  go  around  the  road/  Miss 
Hungerford  ?  " 

I  posed  my  head  in  an  attitude  of  deep  thought. 

"  Because,"  Noel  hastened  to  say,  "  because  she  can't 
go  across  —  no,  that  wasn't  right  —  why —  ahem  !  why 
does  a  hen  go  across  the  road,  Miss  Hungerford  ?  "  and 
the  next  instant  he  was  wallowing  in  the  straw  at  my  feet. 

My  soul  was  filled  with  unutterable  compassion  for 
him. 

"Because"  I  ventured,  when  Noel  reappeared  again, 
affecting  a  tone  of  lively  inspiration,  "because  she 
can't  go  around  it?" 

"  You  — you'  ve  heard  it  before  1 "  gravely  protested 
Noel. 

"  I  confess,"  said  I,  "  that  I  have.  It  used  to  be  my 
favorite  riddle." 

"  It —  it  used  to  be  mine,  too,"  said  Noel.  "It  used 
to  be,  Miss  Hungerford — ahem  1  It  tisfd  to  be — . 
You — you  couldn't  tell  what  I  was  thinking  of  when 
I  —  ahem  —  when  I  started  from  home  to-night,  now, 
could  you,  Miss  Hungerford  ?"  said  Noel,  at  length. 

"I'm  sure  I  couldn't,  Mr.  Norris,"  said  I,  "but  I 
hope  it  was  something  very  agreeable." 

"But  it  wasn't,"  said  Noel,  "that  is,  not  very,  Miss 
Hungerford  ;  ahem  !  not  very.  I  was  —  I  was —  ahem  ! 
I  was  thinking  of  it,  you  know,  of  —  of  such  a  thing  as 
getting  married,  you  know." 


CAPE   COD   FOLKS.  183 

"  I  hope,"  said  I,  cheerfully,  after  a  pause,  "  that  as 
you  consider  the  subject  longer,  it  will  be  a  less  painful 
one  to  you." 

"  /  hope  so,  Miss  Hungerford,"  said  Noel,  "  Ahem  !  7 
hope  so,  certainly ;  "  but  there  was  little  of  that  sanguine 
quality  expressed  in  his  tones. 

The  great  white  horse  made  another  plunge  forward, 
and  Noel  recovered  himself  with  a  desperate  effort. 

"What  should  you  think  now,  Miss  Hungerford,"  he 
continued,  moistening  his  parched  lips,  "if  I  should  do 
such  a  thing  as  to  —  ahem!— as  to  speak  of  such  a 
thing  as  —  ahem!  —  as  something  of  that  sort  to  you, 
now,  Miss  Hungerford  ?  Now,  what  should  you  think  of 
such  a  thing?  now,  really?" 

"  I  should  think  you  were  very  inconsiderate,"  I  said, 
"  and  would  probably  regret  your  rashness  afterwards." 

"/think  so,"  said  Noel;  ahem  !  / think  so,  Miss  Hun 
gerford  ;  /do,  certainly." 

After  this  it  seemed  as  though  a  weight  had  been 
lifted  from  Noel's  mind.  He  kept  his  seat  better.  His 
was  not  a  buoyant  spirit,  but  there  was,  on  this 
occasion,  an  air  of  repressed  cheerfulness  about  him 
such  as  I  had  never  before  seen  him  exhibit.  I  tried  to 
think  that  it  was  a  joyous  mental  rebound  from  the  con 
templation  of  those  dark  riddles  which  trouble  humanity, 
"  why  does  the  hen  go  across  the  road,"  etc. 

After  a  brief  pause, Noel  said,  "You  —  you  wouldn't 
mind  if  I  should  sing  a  little  now,  now  would  you,  Miss 
Hungerford?" 

I  assured  him  that  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  him 
do  so,  and  he  sang,  I  remember,  all  the  rest  of  the  way 
home.  At  the  gate,  I  thanked  him  for  the  ride  and  its 


184  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

cheerful  vocal  accompaniment,  and  Noel  said,  "  Do  you 
like  to  hear  me  sing,  now?  Do  you  —  do  you,  really, 
now,  Miss  Hungerford?"  and  turned  away  with  a  smile 
on  his  face  to  seek  his  home  by  the  sea. 

But  Noel  was  not  long  lonely  for,  in  less  than  a  week, 
his  father  and  mother  returned  from  their  visit  at  Aunt 
Larcia's  and  brought  to  Noel  a  wife. 

Mrs.  Norris  herself  informed  me  that  "it  was  an 
awful  shock  to  him,  at  first,  oh,  dreadful !  but  he  'd  made 
up  his  mind  to  get  married,  and  he'd  never  a'  done 
it  in  the  world,  if  we  had  n't  took  it  into  our  own  hands. 
She  was  a  good  girl,  and  we  knew  it,  and  Noel  was  n't 
no  more  fit  to  pick  out  a  wife,  anyway,  than  a  chicken, 
not  a  bit  more  fit  than  a  chicken  !  " 

This  girl  lived  in  the  same  town  with  Aunt  Larcia,  and 
was  confidently  recommended  by  her  to  Noel's  parents  as 
one  who  would  be  likely  to  make  him  a  wise  and 
suitable  help-meet,  and  was,  indeed,  an  uncommonly  fair 
and  wholesome  looking  individual.  She  had  a  mind, 
too,  whose  clear,  practical  common  sense  had  never  been 
obscured  by  the  idle  theories  of  romance.  She  was  pure 
and  hearty,  and  substantial.  She  was  neither  diffident, 
nor  slow  of  speech,  nor  vacillating.  She  came,  at  the 
invitation  of  Noel's  parents,  to  marry  Noel, and  if  he  had 
refused,  she  would  have  boxed  his  ears  as  a  wholesome 
means  of  correction,  and  married  him  on  the  spot. 

So  Noel's  destined  wife  was  brought  home  to  him  in 
the  morning,  and  in  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day,  the 
connubial  knot  was  tied. 

Half  an  hour  after  the   arrival  of  the  bride,  it  was 

known   throughout  the   length   and  breadth  of  Wallen* 

camp,  to  every  one,  I  believe,  save  Noel  himself,  who 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  185 

was  gathering  drift-wood  a  mile  or  two  down  the  beach, 
thatNoel  was  going  to  be  married  ! 

At  three  o-clock  p.  M.,  brother  Mark  Norris  was  des 
patched  to  West  Wallen  for  a  minister. 

Small  scouts  had  been  sent  out  to  watch,  where  the 
road  from  the  beach  winds  into  the  main  road,  and 
when  word  was  brought  back  that  "  Mark  had  gone  by," 
the  Wallencampers  proceeded  to  make  all  due  prepara 
tions  ;  and  soon  might  have  been  seen  winding  in  a  body 
towards  the  scene  of  interest. 

The  small  paraphernalia  of  invitations  and  wedding 
cards  were  unknown  in  Wallencamp,  The  Wallen 
campers  would  have  considered  that  there  was  little 
virtue  in  a  ceremony  of  any  sort,  performed  without 
the  sanction  and  approval  of  their  united  presence. 

In  regard  to  the  particular  nature  of  this  entertainment, 
there  was  some  snickering  in  the  corners  of  the  room, 
but  the  general  aspect  was  funereal. 

The  season  during  which,  with  Noel  at  one  end  of  the 
room,  and  the  bride  at  the  other,  we  sat  waiting  the  arrival 
of  the  minister,  was  as  solemn  as  anything  I  have  ever 
known. 

I  made  a  congratulatory  remark,  in  a  low  tone,  to  Mrs. 
Norris,  who  sat  at  my  side  with  her  hands  clasped,  gazing 
first  at  Noel  and  then  at  the  bride,  but  I  was  forced  to  ex 
perience  the  uncomfortable  sensation  of  one  who  has 
inadvertently  spoken  out  loud  in  meeting.  No  one  said 
anything. 

The  helpless  snicker  which  started  occasionally  from 
Noah's  corner,  and  was  echoed  faintly  from  other  quarters 
of  the  room,  only  heightened,  by  contrast,  the  effect  of  the 
succeeding  gloom. 


186  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

The  bride  was  perfectly  composed,  with  a  high  natural 
color  in  her  cheeks,  and  an  air  of  being  duly  impressed 
with  the  importance  of  the  occasion. 

She  had  assumed  a  large  white  bonnet,  though  I  do  not 
think  that  she  and  Noel  took  so  much  as  a  stroll  to  the 
beach  after  the  ceremony — and  her  plump  and  shapely 
hands  were  encased  in  a  pair  of  gree.n  kid  gloves.  She 
gazed,  thoughtfully,  at  each  occupant  of  the  room  in  turn, 
not  omitting  Noel,  -who  never  once  stirred  or  lifted  his  eyes. 

Mr.  William  Norris  was  silently  passing  the  water,  when 
brother  Mark  arrived  with  the  minister. 

That  grave  dignitary  advanced  with  measured  tread  to  a 
small  stand,  draped  with  a  long  white  sheet,  that  had  been 
prepared  for  him  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

He  took  off  his  gloves,  and  folded  them ;  he  took  off 
his  overcoat,  and  laid  it  on  the  back  of  a  chair ;  and  if  he 
had  then  reached  down  into  his  pockets  and  taken  out  a 
rope,  and  proceeded  to  adjust  a  slipper-noose,  his  audience 
could  not  have  shown  a  more  ghastly  and  breathless  inter 
est  in  his  performance. 

"  Will  the  parties  " —  his  sonorous  voice  resounded 
through  the  awful  stillness,  "Will  the  parties — about  — 
to  be  joined — in  holy  wedlock — now  —  come  forward?" 

As  Noel  then  arose  and  walked,  with  an  automatic  hitch 
in  his  legs,  across  the  room  to  his  bride,  tHere  was  about 
him  all  the  stiffness  and  pallor  of  the  grave  without  its 
smile  of  peace. 

"Noel  and  Nancy  " — arose  the  deep  intonation  —  "  will 
you — now — join  hands?" 

It  was  a  warm  strong  hand  in  the  green  kid  glove.  Its 
grasp  might  have  sent  a  thrill  of  life  through  Noel's  rigid 
frame,  for  when  the  minister  enquired : 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  187 

"And  do  you, Noel, take  this  woman?"  etc.,  etc. 
Noel  bent  his  body,  moved  his  lips,  and  replied  in  a 
strange,  far  away  tone,  "yes'm,  /  think  so.     /  do,  cer 
tainly." 

But  when  the  question  was  put  to  the  bride,  she, 
Nancy,  promised  to  take  Noel  to  be  her  wedded  husband, 
to  love  and  cherish,  yes,  and  to  cleave  to,  with  a  round 
full  "  I  do,"  that  left  no  possible  room  for  doubt  in  the 
mind  of  anyone  present,  and  seemed  to  send  back  the 
flood  of  frozen  terror  to  Noel's  veins. 

Noel  and  Nancy  were  pronounced  man  and  wife,  and 
Nancy  then  divested  herself  of  her  bonnet  and  gloves,  and 
joined  in  the  festivities  which  followed  with  a  hearty  good 
will,  that  proved  her  to  be  quite  at  home  among  the  VVa- 
llencampers,  and  won  at  once  their  affection  and  esteem. 
The  manner,  particularly,  in  which  she  carried  beans  from 
her  plate  to  her  mouth,  gracefully  balanced  on  the  ex 
treme  verge  of  her  knife,  as  an  adroit  and  finished  work  of 
art,  provoked  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  all  those 
whose  beans  sometimes  wandered  and  fell  off  by  the  way. 

And  all  the  while,  Mrs.  Norris's  adjectives  flowed  in  a 
full  and  copious  stream. 

"  Oh,  Noel  had  been  so  wild,"  she  said  to  me.  "  Oh, 
dreadful !  But  did  n't  I  think  he  looked  like  a  husband 
now?  So  quick,  too!  Oh,  yes,  wasn't  it  beautiful  1 
Abbie  Ann  said  he  looked  as  though  he'd  been  a  husband 
fifteen  years  !  " 

After  the  ceremony, Noel  had  taken  his  pipe  and  retired 
a  little  from  the  active  scenes  which  were  being  enacted 
around  him. 

1  saw  him,  as  I  was  going  away,  standing  in  the  door 
and  looking  out  upon  the  bay.  I  held  out  my  hand  to 


188  CAPE    COD   FOLKS. 

him,  in  passing.  "I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Nom's,"  1 
said.  Noel  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth  and  coughed 
slightly  several  times,  as  though  he  were  striving  to  think  of 
the  polite  thing  to  say.  Then  he  replied, "  I  —  I — ahem  ! 
I  wish  you  the  same,  Miss  Hungerford.  /do,  certainly." 
Noel  was  not  so  pale  as  he  had  been,  but  looked  very 
serious  and  pensive  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  mysterious 
depths  of  the  ocean.  Noel  had  propounded  riddles  to  me, 
but  never  before  had  I  caught  such  a  glimpse  of  the 
deeply  philosophical  workings  of  his  mind. 

"  When  you  come  to  think  of  it,  life — ahem — life  is 
very  uncertain,  Miss  Hungerford." 

I  replied  that  it  was  very  uncertain. 

"  And  short,  too,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it.  It  *s 
very  short,  too,  Miss  Hungerford." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  I  answered,  "  very." 

"  Ahem  !  It  was — it  was  dreadful  sudden,  somehow," 
said  Noel. 

"  I  suppose  so,  Mr.  Norris,"  I  replied  gravely,  "great 
and  unexpected  joys  are  sometimes  said  to  be  as  benumb 
ing  in  their  first  effects  as  griefs  coming  in  the  same 
way." 

"  7  think  so,"  said  Noel.  "Ahem  !  /  think  so,  Miss 
Hungerford,  /do,  certainly." 

Adelaide  joined  me  at  the  door,  and  I  bade  Noel  good 
night. 

We  clambered  down  the  cliffs,  walking  a  little  while 
along  on  the  beach  on  our  way  homeward. 

It  was  growing  dark  and  the  voice  of  the  ocean  was  in 
finitely  mournful  and  sublime.  No  wonder,  I  thought, 
that  life  had  seemed  very  short  and  uncertain  to  Noel  as 
he  stood  in  the  door  listening  to  the  waves. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  189 

What  a  little  thing  it  seemed  indeed,  comparatively— 
this  life  with  its  fears  and  hopes,  its  poor  idle  jests  and 
fleeting  shows. 

"And  there  shall  be  no  more  sea" — but  this  poor 
human  soul  that  looks  out  so  blindly,  and  utters  itself  so 
feebly  through  the  senses  shall  live  for  ever  and  ever. 

"Noel's folks  have  picke.cl  out  a  good  wife  for  him,  any 
how,"  said  Abagail ,  briskly.  "  She's  got  a  sight  more 
sense  than  anybody  he'd  ever  a' picked  out." 

I  crept  back  into  my  shell  again.  "  I  think  so,  certainly, 
Acidic,"  said  I,  smiling  at  having  unconsciously  repeated 
Noel  sown  favorite  phrase. 

"She Ml  make  Noel  all  over,  and  get  some  new  ideas 
into  him,  I  can  tell  you,"  said  Abagail. 

And  though  I  did  not  stay  in  Wallencamp  long  enough 
to  witness  with  my  own  eyes  the  fulfilment  of  this  pro 
phecy,  I  know  that  it  was  abundantly  fulfilled  —  that  Noel 
soon  recovered  from  the  shock  incident  to  his  wedding, 
that  under  ihe  influence  of  his  wholesome  active  wife  and 
with  the  weight  of  greater  responsibilities,  he  grew  more 
manly  and  admirable  in  character,  as  well  as  happier,  with 
each  succeeding  year  ;  and  that  Noel's  children  —  a  joyful 
&nd  robust  group,  adored  of  Mrs.  Norris,  senior  —  play 
on  the  "broad  window  seat"  that  looks  off  towards  the 
sea. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  LETTER   FROM    THE  FISHERMAN. 

|HE  fisherman  had  gone  back  to  Providence. 
Ethel,  herself,  returning  from  the  Post  Office 
at  West  Wallen,  brought  me  a  letter  distin 
guished  by  its  peculiar  dashing  chirograph/.  As  she 
handed  it  to  me,  the  girl,  whose  glance  had  been  down 
cast  of  late,  gave  me  a  clear,  straight-forward,  unem 
barrassed  look. 

"  Do  you  like  him,  teacher?  "  she  said. 

"  Oh,  I  tolerate  him,  my  dear,"  I  answered.  "We  're 
not  expected  to  entertain  a  particular  like  or  dislike  for 
everybody  we  know.  There  are  a  great  many  people  we 
must  just  simply  tolerate." 

Ethel's  eyes  fell  again.  "  He  won't  harm  you,  teacher," 
she  said,  "  for  you  was  used  to  folks.  Sometime  you 
might  remember  —  I  was  n't  used  to  folks." 

Occupied  with  my  own  thoughts,  I  passed  lightly  over 
the  girl's  slow,  trembling  speech.  She  turned  away,  and 
I  bent  to  the  complacent  perusal  of  my  letter.  In  my 
then  composed  and  exalted  frame  of  mind,  its  contents 
were  not  calculated  to  create  in  me  cither  great  emotion 
or  surprise.  And  not  because  the  mere  fact  of  the  fisher 
man's  absence  had  suddenly  rendered  him  more  desirable 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  191 

in  my  eyes,  but  as  the  result  of  a  recent  determination  on 
my  part  to  take  an  utterly  worldly  and  practical  view  of 
life,  I  resolved  to  give  this  letter  the  most  careful  and 
serious  consideration. 

The  fisherman  was  of  good  family,  and  he  was  rich ; 
these  statements,  artistically  interwoven  by  him  with  the 
lighter  fabric  of  his  letter,  were  confirmed  by  an  acquaint 
ance  of  mine  in  Providence,  of  whom,  in  writing,  I  had 
incidentally  enquired  concerning  the  gentleman. 

Respectability  and  wealth  —  items  not  supposed  to 
weigh  too  heavily  with  the  romantic  mind  of  youth  — 
but  I  believed  that  I  was  no  longer  either  young  or  ro 
mantic.  Moreover,  I  was  slowly  realizing  the  fact  that 
school-teaching  in  Wallencamp  was  not  likely  to  furnish 
me  the  means  for  making  an  excessively  brilliant  personal 
display,  nor  for  carrying  out  to  any  extent  my  subordinate 
plans  for  a  world- wide  philanthropy. 

"  Perhaps,  after  all  then,"  I  argued,  "  it  is  only  left  for 
me  to  give  up  my  ideas  about  being  unique  and  inde 
pendent  and  sublime,  '  take  up  with  a  good  offer,'  and 
step  resolutely,  without  any  sentimental  awe,  into  the 
great  orderly  ranks  of  the  married  sister-hood." 

My  life  had  been  but  a  varied  list  of  surprises  to  my 
family  and  acquaintances,  why  not  effect  the  crowning 
surprise  of  all,  by  doing  something  they  might  have 
expected  of  me? 

Well,  I  had  dreamed  of  higher  things  —  but  this  was 
a  strange,  restless,  disappointing  world.  If  one  saw  a 
plain  path  open  before  one's  feet,  one  might  as  well  walk 
quietly  along  that  way.  There  were  thorns  in  every  path, 
and  it  would  be  nice  to  be  rich,  very  rich. 

My  thoughts  wandered  through  a  wide  field  of  imagin- 


192  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

ary  delight,  encountering  only  one  serious  obstacle  in  the 
way  of  their  elysium,  and  that  was  the  fisherman  himself, 
considered  as  a  life-long  escort  and  companion. 

In  my  youthful  dreams,  I  had  cherished,  to  be  sure, 
a  score  of  mild  Arthur  Greys  and  stern  Stephen  Mont- 
gomerys.  My  Arthurs  had  all  died  of  inherited  con 
sumption.  I  had  taken  leave  of  their  departing  spirits 
under  the  most  thrilling  circumstances,  having  frequently 
been  married  to  them  at  their  death-beds,  and  had  lived 
but  to  plant  flowers  on  their  graves,  and  wear  crape  for 
them  ever  afterwards;  and  my  dark  browed  Stephen 
Montgomerys  had  all  gone  to  swell  the  avenging  tide 
of  righteous  war,  and  had  been  fatally  shot,  while 
I  remained  to  shed  tears  of  unavailing  grief  over  the 
locks  of  raven  hair  they  left  with  me  on  the  morn 
ing  of  their  departure.  But  to  marry  a  real,  live, 
omnipresent  man — a  man,  with  red  hair,  sound  lungs, 
and  no  wars  to  go  to  !  My  aspiring  soul  shrank  from 
the  realistic  vision. 

And  all  the  while  a  tenderer  vision  would  rise  before  my 
eyes,  clothed  with  its  pitiful  romance — the  Cradlebow, 
like  some  sadly  out-of-fashion  guest,  arising  unsolicited 
out  of  a  half- forgotten  dream-land,  passing  indeed  both 
the  ideal  strength  of  the  war-like  Stephen  and  the  gen 
tleness  of  the  saintly  Arthur,  but,  alas  !  so  crude,  so 
unworldly,  so  ridiculously  poor  !  And  the  vision  extended 
and  then  narrowed  helplessly  to  a  home  in  one  of  the 
forlorn  houses  in  Wallencamp  by  the  sea,  with  its  dingy 
walls  and  bare  floors,  its  general  confusion  of  objects  and 
misery,  and  my  lord's  grand  eyes  obscured,  perchance, 
behind  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke,  while  I  set  the  scanty 
table  and  fried  the  briny  herrings. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS  _  193 

With  a  shudder  for  romance,  I  returned  to  the  con 
templation  of  wealth  and  respectability ;  and  took  up 
graciously,  once  more,  the  briefly  abandoned  idea  of  duty. 

I  had  often  been  told  that  it  was  my  duty  to  accommo 
date  myself  to  other  people's  views.  Perhaps  I  should 
accomplish  my  designs  for  self-immolation,  and  thus,  in 
one  sense,  effect  my  highest  spiritual  good  by  marrying 
the  fisherman  and  accommodating  myself  to  his  views  — 
ah  !  but  how  could  that  be,  I  reflected,  unsmilingly,  when 
my  views  were  so  infinitely  superior  to  his  ! 

I  wondered,  for  one  thing,  why  he  should  have  enter 
tained,  of  late,  such  an  excessive  dislike  for  Wallencamp 
and  "its  inhabitants.  The  natural  beauty  of  Wallencamp 
had  impressed  me  daily  more  and  more,  and  the  people 
were  harmless,  to  say  the  least.  I  thought  he  should 
h;i'fe  enjoyed  them  ;  he  had  a  humorous  vein  j  he  was 
not  too  snobbish  ;  and  he  seemed  of  a  nature  to  wish  to 
make  himself  generally  agreeable  to  people,  but  for 
these  special  objects  of  my  care,  he  had  expressed  only 
derision  and  contempt,  with  often  a  touch  of  positive 
malice  ;  and  had  not  been  able  to  abstain  from  giving 
me  a  hard  cut  or  two  on  my  mission,  barely  avoiding  it  in 
his  letter,  and  rejoicing  with  what  seemed  to  me  an  un 
warrantable  warmth  in  the  hope  that  1  should  soon  quit 
forever  the  abominable  place. 

Then,  in  my  miserable  short-sightedness,  my  thoughts 
wandered  indirectly  to  Ethel.  1  wondered  if  she  had 
taken  to  heart  anything  in  the  acquaintance  she  was  said  to 
have  had  with  Mr.  Turner,  before  I  came  to  Wallencamp, 
which  had  caused  the  change  in  her.  I  did  not  believe 
she  had.  The  girl  was  too  artless  and  simple  to  have  con 
cealed  so  completely  the  resentment  she  would  naturally 


194  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

have  cherished  —  too  childish  to  have  borne  it  so  silently. 
As  far  as  the  fisherman  was  implicated  in  the  affair,  even 
if  he  had  trifled  a  little  for  his  own  amusement  with  the 
vague  impulses,  possibly  the  affections,  of  this  unso 
phisticated  girl,  the  act  was  by  no  means  unprecedented 
among  people  of  wealth  and  respectability.  It  was  a 
diversion  in  which  Arthur  Grey  and  Stephen  Montgom 
ery  would  not  have  indulged,  perhaps,  "but  this,"  I 
mused,  "is  a  sadly  common-place  sort  of  world,  viewed  in 
the  broad  daylight  of  wisdom  and  experience  (and  with 
such  penetrating  rays  I  felt  my  own  optics  to  be  only  too 
wearily  oppressed)  ;  we  must  give  up  our  high  ideals, 
take  people  as  we  find  them,  and  submit  gracefully  to  the 
inevitable." 

Still  I  was  in  as  much  of  a  quandary  as  ever  as  to  what 
I  should  choose  to  consider  the  inevitable  in  my  own 
path.  It  never  occurred  to  me  in  this  dilemma  to  seek 
advice  from  the  elder  members  of  my  own  family.  They 
knew  nothing  really  of  my  situation  in  Wallencamp,  and 
even  if  they  had  been  informed  more  truthfully  in  regard 
to  it,  I  thought  they  could  hardly  be  expected  to  appre 
ciate  the  peculiarly  trying  circumstances  in  which  I  was 
placed  just  at  present. 

Mothers  were  excellent  for  mending  gloves,  taking 
ink  stains  out  of  white  d/csscs  with  lemon  juice,  etc., 
etc.,  but  there  were  certain  exigencies  in  the  remote  and 
exalted  life  of  those  who  go  on  "  missions"  which  their 
humble  though  loving  skill  must  ever  ,fail  to  reach. 

I  did  write  home,  by  the  way,  for  more  spencling- 
money.  I  had  been  obliged  to  send  to  Boston  for  a  few 
of  the  latest  novels,  fresh  ribbons,  cologne  water,  and 
various  other  articles  indispensable  to  the  career  of  a  truly 


CAPS   COD  FOLKS.  195 

devoted  propagandist.  I  preferred  my  request  no  longer 
as  the  dependent  offspring  seeking  gifts  from  a  fond  and 
indulgent  parent,  but  as  the  solicitor  of  a  mere  temporary 
loan,  until  I  should  be  able  to  draw  on  my  salary  at  the 
close  of  the  term. 

One  morning,  having  inured  myself  to  extreme  world- 
liness  of  soul  and  begun  a  deliberately  reckless  response 
to  the  fisherman's  letter,  I  looked  out  through  my  window 
to  see  the  Cradlebow  trudging  manfully  down  the  lane, 
with  a  grotesquely  antiquated  portemanteau  in  his  hand, 
and  the  general  air  of  one  who  has  started  a-foot  on  a 
journey. 

With  a  singular  readiness  to  be  diverted,  I  found 
that  the  picture  was,  somehow,  not  conducive  to  further 
worldliness  of  meditation ;  and  when,  in  the  evening, 
Mrs.  Cradlebow  came  in  to  call,  in  her  mantilla,  the 
impression  thus  made  on  my  mind  was  inexpressibly 
deepened. 

Mrs  Cradlebow  was  not  a  frequent  caller.  She  had 
almost  earned  among  the  Wallcncampers  the  direful 
anathema  .of  "  not  being  neighborly." 

She  informed  me,  while  the  singers  were  gathered,  as 
usual,  at  the  Ark,  that  Benney  had  gone  to  make  fare 
well  visits  on  his  friends.  He  had  three  married  sisters 
living  in  different  parts  of  the  State.  They  had  children. 
The  children  were  very  fond  of  him,  and  he  was  going  on 
such  a  long  voyage.  Mrs.  Cradlebow  was  looking  be 
yond  the  singers,  her  eyes  shining  clear  and  sad  above 
the  pathetic  smile  on  her  lips. 

"  And  he  says  he  shan't  come  back  again  until  he 
comes  to  give  me  such  pleasure  as  I  never  dreamed  of." 

Those  words  come  to  me  now,  either  as  part  of  the 


106  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

enrlless  mockery  of  life,  or  as  strains  of  hidden  music, 
deep  and  true,  running  ever  beneath  the  world's  dull  mis 
interpretation. 

Afterwards,  the  choir  of  voices  in  the  room  formed  an 
effectual  shield  for  confidential  conversation. 

"  You  don't  know  what  a  good  boy  he's  always  been  to 
me,  teacher,"  Mrs.  Cradlebow  continued,  with  a  manner 
unusual  to  her,  1  thought,  as  of  one  seeking  for  sympathy, 
"so  that  I've  learned  to  depend  so  much  on  him,  more, 
I  think,  than  on  anybody  else.  Some  boys,  when  they  're 
growing  up  so,  they  feel  independent  and  they  answer 
you  back  short,  but  the  older  he  grew,  the  gentler  he 
was  to  me,  always,  and  if  he  had  any  trouble,  it 
never  made  him  cross  to  me,  and  I  think  it's  harder  to 
see  anybody  so  than  if  they  was  cross,  for  he's  quick  in 
ways,  1  know,  but  when  things  go  real  hard  against  him, 
he  's  patient." 

"He  ought  not  to  know  much  about  trouble  yet,"  I 
answered  hopefully,  with  the  consciousness  of  one  who 
has  fathomed  all  the  mysteries  of  grief  and  can  yet  speak 
gaily  of  the  forlorn  background. 

"He  doesn't  know  enough  about  the  world,  I'm 
afraid,"  said  Mrs.  Cradlcbow,  and  her  eyes,  fixed  on  my 
face,  seemed  to  me  to  be  looking  gently  into  my  inmost 
heart.  "He  expects  so  much,  and  he  never  looks  out 
for  himself.  J  wish  he'd  be  content  to  go  fishing  with  the 
other  boys  —  they  always  come  back  in  the  autumn  — 
and  not  want  to  sail  so  far." 

1  was  almost  angry  because  of  the  embarrassment  I  felt 
under  that  clear  glance. 

"  Don't  you  think,  Mrs.  Cradlebow,"  I  said  nervously, 
"  that  young  people  arc  never  content  until  they  find  out 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  197 

the  world  for  themselves  ?  "  It  was  an  interrogation,  but 
it  was  sagely  uttered. 

"  1  know,  1  know,"  she  said.  "  Perhaps  it 's  best  he 
should  go."  She  spoke  very  quietly  and  with  uncommon 
composure  of  demeanor.  She  withdrew  her  eyes  from 
my  lace  but  the  smile  trembled  on  her  lips,  and  1  knew 
that  her  heart  was  breaking  over  the  words,  for  Lcnney 
was  her  darling. 

I  wished,  almost  impatiently,  for  my  own  part,  that  it 
might  all  have  happened  differently,  that  I  might  leave 
everything  in  Wallencamp  just  as  I  had  found  it,  so 
delightfully  happy  and  peaceful  it  had  seemed  to  me.  I 
could  not  bear,  in  looking  back,  to  think  of  one  face  as 
wearing  upon  it  any  unaccustomed  grief.  At  all  events, 
I  felt  that  my  thoughts  had  been  hopelessly  turned  irom 
their  prescribed  channel,  and  the  fisherman's  letter  re 
mained  from  day  to  day,  still  unanswered. 

Meanwhile,  winter  was  vanishing  at  the  Cape.  As 
salient  points  in  its  quaint  and  cherished  memory,  I  recall 
the  frequent  clamming  excursions,  when  we  rattled  down 
to  the  beach,  at  low-t.de,  in  a  cart  whose  groaning  mem 
bers  lacked  every  element  of  elasticity.  Often  there  were 
as  many  as  sixteen  persons  in  one  cart,  and  the  same 
number  of  hoes  and  baskets — the  baskets  being  filled 
with  small  children  as  a  means  of  keeping  both  them  and 
the  children  stationary. 

Grandma  was  always  present  on  these  occasions,  and 
the  hilarity  of  the  Wallencampers,  as  they  were  jounced 
and  joggled  over  the  stones,  in  a  manner  which  to  some 
might  have  been  productive  of  great  bodily  agony,  con 
cealed,  with  them,  no  undercurrent  of  nervous  dread  or 
pain.  They  were  kind  enough  to  regard  the  presence  of 


198  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

•.ne  "Teacher"  as  indispensable  to  their  complete  enjoy 
ment,  while  I  was  ready  to  congratulate  myself  that  my 
society  alone  was  the  object  desired,  for  though  I  brought 
my  neur-sighted  vision  to  bear  faithfully  upon  the  sands,  I 
never  succeeded  in  capturing  a  clam. 

1  heard  that  Bachelor  Rae  had  confided  aside  to  Cap 
tain  Benney  that "  Teacher  'd  ought  to  bring  a  hook  and 
line.  The  clams  ud  go  for  it  in  a  minute  if  she  'd  only 
bring  a  hook  and  line ; "  and,  stung  by  the  unsheathed 
sarcasm  of  this  remark,  I  was  accustomed  afterwards 
to  wander  off  towards  "  Steeple  Rock."  The  rock  was 
accessible  at  low-tide,  and  from  thence  I  could  watch 
the  ocean  on  one  side,  and  the  clam -diggers  on  the 
other ;  could  see  Grandma  on  her  hands  and  knees,  a 
dot  of  broad  good  nature  in  the  distance,  always 
remaining  apparently  in  the  one  place,  and  always^ 
somehow,  getting  her  basket  full  of  clams  as  she  gradually 
sank  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  briny  soil,  but  no 
true  Wallcncampers  ever  caught  cold  by  soaking  in  the 
brine. 

1  could  distinguish  Abagail  wandering  lightly  about 
among  the  rocks,  scraping  off  mussels  with  her  hoe,  and 
the  Modoc,  the  champion  clam-digger  of  all,  spreading 
her  tentacles,  here  and  there,  and  never  failing  to  come 
up  with  a  bivalve.  It  was  a  picturesque  scene,  viewed 
from  the  great  rock  ;  and  when  the  tide  began  to  sweep 
in  again,  George  Olver  sent  a  piercing  whistle  along 
shore,  to  call  the  stragglers  together;  clams,  children,  and 
all  were  loaded  into  the  cart,  and  jostled  gaily  homeward 
chased  by  the  fresh  sea  breezes. 

For  the  chowder,  which  in  due  course  of  events  arose 
to  take  its  place  among  the  viands  on  the  Ark  board, 


CAPS    COD   FOLKS.  199 

I  would  leave  it  to  that  sacred  and  tenfold  mystery 
with  which,  to  my  mind,  it  was  ever  enshrouded. 


I  recall  the  exhibitions  held  at  the  school-house,  con 
fined  exclusively  to  the  native  talent  of  Wallencamp, 
at  which  the  old  and  young  were  assembled  to  speak 
pieces. 

It  was  then  that  Aunt  Rhoda  and  Aunt  Cinthia, 
matrons  of  portly  frame  and  perilous  foothold,  engaged 
in  a  metrical  dialogue  concerning  the  robbing  of  a  bird's 
nest,  in  which  lively  diversion  they  assumed  to  have  par 
ticipated.  And  Bachelor  Rae  rendered  "my  beautiful 
Annabel  Lee"  with  unique  effect,  and  Grandma  Spicer 
spoke  mysteriously  though  hopefully  of 

"  Hope  and  Harnah 

Double  decked   schooner 
Cap'n   John    Homer 
Marster  and  owner 
Bound  for   Bcrmudy." 

The  strange  effect  produced  upon  me  by  the  first  of 
these  rhetorical  entertainments,  is  still  as  fresh  in  my 
mind  as  though  it  had  been  yesterday,  so  luminous  was 
the  night  with  stars ;  so  loud  and  prolonged  the  prelim 
inary  blowing  of  the  horn ;  so  festive  the  appearance  of 
the  school-house,  loaded  as  it  was  with  evergreens;  so 
abnormal  the  proportions  of  the  stage,  which  had  been 
extended  to  comprise  nearly  two- thirds  of  the  school 
room. 

It  comes  to  me  again,  the  first  shock  of  surprise  at 
finding  all  Wallencamp  on  the  stage,  Grandpa  and  I, 
alone,  being  left  like  ostracized  owls  among  the  shrub 
bery  of  the  auditorium.  Our  sense  of  isolation  was  only 


200  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

intensified  by  hearing  the  sounds  of  mirth  which  pro 
ceeded  from  the  other  side  of  the  curtain,  and  seeing 
a  foot  or  an  elbow  occasionally  thrust  out  into  our  own 
green  though  silent  realm. 

Thrice  Aunt  Rhoda  appeared  before  the  curtain  to 
proclaim  in  pregnant  tones,  "we  axe  now  awaiting  for 
Josiah  and  Annie." 

Josiah,  by  the  way,  had  married  a  Wallencamp  girl 
and  taken  her  to  West  Wallen  to  live,  yet  the  two  were 
ever  faithful  attendants  at  the  Wallencamp  festivities. 

"  Declaration"  after  "declaration  "  was  announced  by 
Aunt  Rhoda,  and  as  the  declaimers  finished  their  parts, 
they  descended  to  sit  with  us,  until  at  last  the  curtain 
was  drawn  aside,  revealing  Abagail,  alone  upon  the 
stage,  seated  at  her  "  music." 

She  opened  the  Hymnal,  and  struck  the  leading 
chord,  and  straightway,  from  the  YVallencampers,  all 
gathered  now  below,  there  arose  a  burst  ol  melody  as  it 
had  been  one  mighty  voice. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  WALLENCAMP  FUNERAL. 

JR.  'Lihti  Alden-  Noah's  father — lay  dying,  and 
all  the  Wallencampers  were  assembled  in  and 
about  the  house. 

li  was  night,  and  one  was  going  out  from  among  them 
to  launch  his  lonely  bark  on  a  deeper,  more  mysterious 
ocean  than  that  whose  moan  came  up  to  them  from 
behind  the  cedars.  There  was  awe  on  their  faces,  and  a 
touch  of  terror,  too,  but  above  all  there  was  a  strange, 
child-like  wonder. 

They  had  seen  death  before.  It  might  come  to  them 
at  any  time,  they  knew.  Its  spirit  sounded  in  the  dirges 
of  the  waves  along  the  shore,  yet,  none  the  less,  for 
time  or  fate,  or  moan  of  solemn  wave,  grew  this  ex 
ceeding  mystery. 

Was  it  like  a  cold  black  flood,  to  die  at  night,  and  no 
stars  shining — a  cold  flood  creeping  more  and  more 
above  the  heart?  Oh,  the  wonder  on  those  poor 
faces,  if  there  might  be,  indeed,  some  fairer  harbor 
lights  beyond  death's  tide,  and  gentler  music  lulling 


202  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

the  dread  surge,  so  that  the  voyager,  with  untold  joy  at 
last,  felt  the  worn  boat- keel  loosen  on  the  strand  and 
drift  off  from  this  shore ! 

Emily  and  Aunt  Cinthia  were  alone  in  the  room  with 
the  dying  man.  They  were  his  sisters.  His  wife  had 
been  dead  for  years. 

In  the  adjoining  room  sat  a  group  of  females,  a  single 
candle  burning  dimly  on  a  table  in  their  midst.  Grand 
ma  Bartlett  was  there,  and  Grandma  Spicer,  and  Aunt 
Susannah  Cradlebow, 

Occasionally,  a  whisper  from  one  of  these  three 
pierced  the  gloom,  a  whisper  appropriately  sepulchral 
in  tone,  but  more  penetrating  than  any  voice  of  buoyant 
life  and  hope. 

I  sat  in  the  door  with  Abagail,  Ethel  on  the  step 
below,  very  still  and  thoughtful. 

The  men  and  the  young  people,  for  the  most  part, 
were  waiting  about  outside. 

I  caught  the  low  murmur  of  a  discussion  between 
Captain  Sartcll  and  Bachelor  Rae,  who  were  sitting  on 
the  fence,  and  knew  by  the  attitude  of  the  listeners 
gathered  around  them,  that  the  subject  was  one  of  no 
ordinary  interest.  I  could  not  help  wondering  what 
these  two  argued  concerning  death  and  the  immortality 
of  the  soul. 

The  tick  !  tick  !  tick  !  of  the  clock  sounded  with  per 
sistent  distinctness  in  the  room  where  the  women  sat, 
and  Grandma  Bartlett  sighed,  and  then  came  the  awful 
whisper. 

"Ah,  death's  vary  sahd  —  vary  sahd." 

Grandma  Bartlett,  superannuated  as  she  was,  was  the 
most  trite  of  the  Wallencampers. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  203 

Annt  Susannah  Cradlebow  accepted  the  lifeless 
phrase  with  something  almost  like  a  smile  of  disdain  in 
her  magnificent  eyes. 

"  Oli,  it 's  like  everything  else,"  she  whispered.  "  It  's 
amixter!  It's  a  mixter  1" 

Once,  the  door  of  the  little  bedroom  opened  softly  and 
Emily  appeared  on  the  scene. 

"  He  's  got  most  to  the  end  of  ///Vrope,"  she  said  drily, 
in  answer  to  the  enquiring  faces  lifted  to  her  own. 
There  was  an  unnatural  brightness  in  Emily's  tearless 
eyes,  and  her  tone  was  as  sprightly  as  ever. 

"  He  don't  see  nothin',  and  he  don't  feel  nothin',  and 
he  don 't  hear  nothin',"  she  continued,  "  and  it 's  sech 
poor  work  a'  breathing  he 's  most  give  that  up,  too.  It 
might  stop  any  minute  and  he  not  know  it.  Cinthy's 
cryin',  I  don't  see  nothin'  to  cry  about.  It'll  storm 
before  to-morrow,  likely —  it's  dark  enough,  Lord  knows 
—  and  them  east  winds  ahvays  hurt  him  so.  *  I  don't 
know  whether  he's  worse  oft,  or  better  ofT,  Cinthy,'  says 
I,  'or  whether  he's  off  entirely.  But  I  don't  believe  a 
righteous  God  '11  make  poor  'Lihu  sufler  any  worse  than 
he  has  in  the  last  ten  weeks.'  But  it's  strange,  all  the 
time  I  was  a'  sittin'  there  by  him,  when  he  was  worst,  it 
kept  comin'  up  before  me,  jest  as  he  was  when  he  was  a 
little  boy.  I  had  n't  thought  on  him  so  for  years,  but 
seemed  jest  as  though  't  was  back  in  New  Hampshire, 
where  we  was  born,  a  playin'  around  the  old  mill  again. 
Him  and  me  was  the  youngest,  we  was  always  together, 
and  I  couldn't  a'  called  him  up  so  before  me,  to  save 
me,  but  there  he  was,  as  plain  as  life,  with  his  little  blue 
checked  apron  on,  a'skippin'  along  towards  me  over  the 
logs,  and  his  eyes  a'  dancin',  and  the  wind  a'  blowin*  his 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

» 

hair  out ;  and  all  the  while  I  could  n't  help  a*  knowin' 
that  'Lihu  was  a  man  grown  a'  dyin'  there  before  me  on 
the  bed. 

"  'Seems  as  though  a  man  that's  been  a*  wearin'  out  as 
long  as  he  has  had  ought  to  die  easier,  Cinthy,'  says  I. 
'It's  pretty  hard  to  have  forty  years  consumption,  and 
then  go  off  with  a  fever.'  '  We  can 't  question  the  Lord's 
doin's,'  says  Cinthy.  But  for  all  that,  she  wouldn't 
stay  in  the  room  to  see  him.  He  could  n't  ketch  his 
breath  and  he  was  as  crazy  as  a  loon.  Lord,  how  he 
worried  !  All  day,  yesterday,  he  was  a  loadin'  ship  down 
to  the  shore.  It  would  a' made  your  bones  ache  to  hear  him 
workin'  so  ;  and  all  night  long  he  was  a  loadin',  and  a 
loadin.'  Thinks  I,  won't  there  never  be  no  end  to  this, 
for  I  felt  hard,  and  him  a  loadin'  and  a  loadin'  all 
through  them  long  hours,  jest  as  faithful  as  life,  with  his 
eyes  like  blood,  and  the  sweat  a  rollin' off'n  him.  He 
could  n't  stand  that  forever.  This  mornin*  the  pain 
sorter  left  him,  but  there  was  that  one  idee  on  his  mind. 
The  ship  was  all  loaded,  and  he'd  got  to  wait  for  high 
tide  to  git  it  off,  and  he  wanted  to  go  to  sleep,  but  he 
could  n't,  because  he'd  got  to  watch  the  tide. 

"  '  Oh,  if  I  could  only  rest,  now,'  he  kep'  a1  sayin', 
weak  and  slow.  .'If  I  could  only  go  to  sleep  now,'  and 
so  he  moaned  and  moaned. 

"  So  I  got  close  to  his  ear  and  I  says,  'You  go  to  sleep, 
now,  'Lihu,  and  I'll  watch,'  I  says,  '  I'll  wake  you  up 
when  it's  high  tide,'  I  says,  but  he  only  shook  his  head. 
So  then,  I  says,  '  Aint  there  none  o'  the  folks  you  can 
trust  to  watch?'  And  he  shook  his  head,  and  so  he 
moaned  and  moaned. 

"  By  and  by,  all  of  a  sudden,  'Lihu  looked  up  at  me 


CAPS    COD   FOLKS.  305 

different,  with  his  eyes  wide  open,  so  that  for  a  minute, 
I  was  most  fool  enough  to  think  'Lihu  was  gittin'  well, 
and  he  smiled  as  though  he  wanted  to  say  something.  So 
I  leant  over,  'I — know — somebody,'  he  says,  as  slow 
as  that,  for  he  was  all  worn  out.  'Who,  then,  'Lihu?' 
says  I.  '  Jesus,'  says  he,  with  that  queer,  smilin'  look, 
as  though  it  was  the  naturalist  thing  on  earth.  *  He'll  — 
wake  —  me — up — when — ,'  and  he  couldn't  wait  no 
longer,  his  head  fell  over  as  heavy  as  a  log,  and  that's 
the  way  he 's  been  ever  since,  sleepin'  like  death. 

"  Wall,  Cinthy  thinks  somebody 'd  ought  to  come  in  and 
make  a  prayer.  'He  wasn't  a  perfessor,'  says  she. 
'Lord  knows,  if  he  had  a  been,'  says  I,  '  there  'd  be 
more  need  on 't ! '  'Anyway,'  says  I,  'he  can't  hear 
nothin',  it  won  't  do  him  no  harm.'  So  I  thought  I'd 
come  out  and  see.  It  '11  make  Cinthy  feel  easier." 

There  was  a  whispered  consultation  among  the  women, 
but  Emily  came  over  to  where  I  sat. 

"  Come,  teacher,"  said  she.  "Your  voice  ain't  as 
raspin'  as  some,  and  you  Ve  got  a  knack  o'  stringin'  words 
together,  that  sound  likely,  and  don't  hit  nobody — you 
come  in." 

"  Hush  !  "  I  cried,  grasping  the  woman's  hand,  think 
ing  only,  then,  that  it  would  seem  like  sacrilege  for  any 
one  to  speak  aloud  in  the  room  where  one  was  waiting  for 
Christ  to  wake  him.  I  had  forgotten  at  that  moment, 
that  I  was  out  of  the  habit  of  praying,  even  for  myself. 
Emily's  tale  had  moved  me  so,  it  seemed  only  its  sweet 
and  fitting  consummation,  and  nothing  incredible  to  my 
mind  then,  that  Christ  should  come  down  out  of  the 
starless  sky  to  touch  that  heavy  sleeper's  brow. 

It  was  finally  decided  that  there  should  be  a  quiet  little 


206  CAPE    COD   FOLKS. 

prayer  meeting  in  the  room  where  the  women  sat,  in 
behalf  of  Mr.  'Lihu's  soul ;  but  before  all  the  preliminary 
steps  had  been  taken,  and  the  men  and  youth  noiselessly 
ingathered,  Mr.  'Lihu's  breathing  had  ceased,  without  a 
parting  pang  or  gasp,  and  the  tide  was  at  its  full. 

Noah  had  been  standing  with  a  group  near  the  door. 
Once  at  some  irrelevancy  in  the  proceedings,  while  the 
women  were  organizing  the  prayer  meeting,  I  heard  his 
irrepressible  little  giggle  creeping  in,  but  when  the  words 
so  mysteriously  uttered  were  passed  out  to  him—"  'Lihu's 
gone  !  " — the  poor  boy,  realizing  only  at  that  instant  their 
terrible  meaning,  that  his  father  had  indeed  gone,  gone 
away  from  him  forever,  ran  forward  a  pace  or  two,  and 
then  fell,  with  his  face  to  the  ground. 

So  he  lay,  shaking  and  sobbing  helplessly. 
Grandma  Bartlett,  standing  in  the  door,  studied  him  for 
some  moments  with  her  fossilized  eyes : 

"  Fatherless  and  motherless,  now,"  said  she.  "  Poor 
crcetur,  humph  !  vary  sahd." 

Then  she  blinked,  and,  simultaneously,  the  subject 
seemed  to  have  slipped  from  her  mind,  and  she  to  have 
become  vaguely  contemplative  concerning  worlds  and 
ages  remote. 

The  boy  was  still  lying  prone  on  the  ground,  when  I  left 
the  place  of  mourning  with  Grandma  and  Abagail.  I 
spoke  to  him,  and  shrank  instinctively  from  his  face  as  he 
turned  it  towards  me.  It  was  swollen  and  disfigured  with 
weeping.  He  had  bruised  it,  too,  in  falling.  He  rose, 
trembling,  and  walked  with  me.  For  my  own  part,  the 
emotional  had  given  place  to  feelings  of  a  more  sustained 
and  ordinary  nature. 
I  strove  to  impress  upon  Noah's  mind  the  beautiful 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  207 

and  poetic  manner  in  which  his  father  had  been  released 
from  his  sufferings. 

I  reminded  him  of  the  shortness  of  life,  "even  from 
your  point  of  view,  Noah,"  and  the  necessity  there  was 
always,  for  not  allowing  ourselves  to  be  overcome  by  our 
griefs  or  passions,  or  diverted  from  the  supreme  satis 
faction  of  performing  our  appointed  tasks,  etc. 

And  Noah  listened  patiently  throughout,  and  said, 
"  good -night,"  with  a  brave  attempt  at  a  smile,  and  a  sob 
still  choking  in  his  throat. 

I  turned  an  instant,  to  look  at  him  as  he  walked  away. 
He  wore,  generally,  a  coat  of  ministerial  form  and  com 
plexion  ;  this,  taken. in  connection  with  his  round,  laughing 
face,  his  boyish  figure,  and  propensity  for  playing  tricks, 
had  often  made  me  smile,  hitherto. 

But,  now,  there  was  something  in  the  attitude  of  those 
long,  black  tails  that  brought  the  tears  to  my  eyes. 

It  occurred  to  me,  indirectly,  what  Emily  had  said 
about  my  stringing  words  together,  and  I  marveled  if 
possibly  my  exhortation  had  soared  over  poor  Noah's 
head  and  left  his  heart  aching  for  an  ordinary  word  of 
sympathy,  or  a  simple  reference  to  One  who  as  a  man 
01  sorrows,  was  best  fitted  to  understand  and  console  his 
grief.  To  any  sentiments  of  the  latter  nature,  Noah  was 
particularly  susceptible. 

"  Children,  all  of  them  ! "  Thus  gently  apostrophizing 
the  Wallencampers,  I  dismissed  the  cause  of  my  brief 
mental  discomfiture,  with  a  half-pitying  smile. 

The  day  after  Mr.  'Lima's  death,  I  looked  down  from 
my  desk  in  school  to  see  the  infant  Sophronia  weeping 
bitterly. 

"  What  is  Ihe  matter,  Sophronia?"  I  said. 


208  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  Carietta 's  been  to  see  the  cops  twice,"  she  sobbed; 
"and  1  ain't  been  any." 

1  only  gathered  from  this  that  Carietta  was  somehow 
implicated  as  being  the  cause  of  the  infant  Sophroma's 
sufferings. 

"  Now,"  said  I  gravely,  "  tell  me  what  you  mean?  " 

"She  means  the  cops  !"  cried  Carietta,  her  small  face 
distorted  with  a  leer  of  the  most  horrid  satisfaction. 
'•  'Lihu's  cops.  Throny  means  the — " 

"That  will  do,"  1  said.  "1  understand  you  perfectly. 
I  understand  you  only  too  well.  This  is  about  as  bud," 
1  reflected,  "as  anything  in  my  experience." 

After  admonishing  my  pupils  with  that  sincere  emotion 
to  which  the  occasion  had  given  rise,  that  they  should 
speak  always  respectfully  of  their  elders,  but  especially  in 
the  most  tender  and  solemn  tones  of  the  dead  ;  after 
pointing  out  to  them  the  perniciousness  of  a  low  and 
vulgar  curiosity,  and  expatiating  on  the  vastness  and 
superiority  of  the  spiritual  life,  compared  with  the  earthly 
and  carnal,  I  paused,  only  to  give,  further  on,  a  fuller 
illustration  to  my  words,  and  said  : 

"  Now,  Sophronia,  you  have  an  immortal  soul?" 

There  was  evidence  of  some  faint  hankering  in  So 
ph  ronia's  face  as  she  mentally  ran  over  the  list  of  her 
possessions. 

"No'm,"  said  she,  "I  hain't — but  I've  got  a  corny- 
copia  !" 

I  think  it  was  then  and  there  that  my  hopes  for  the 
elevation  of  juvenile  Wallencnmp  received  their  death 
blow,  and  my  labors,  which  had  before  been  cheered  by 
a  dream  of  partially  satisfying  success,  at  least,  took  on  au 
utterly  goal- less  aud  prosaical  form. 


CAPE   COD  FOLK3.  309 

These  children,  I  was  forced  to  admit,  regarded  the 
day  of  Mr.  'Lihu's  funeral  as  a  holiday  of  rare  and  special 
interest,  mysteriously  bestowed  by  Heaven. 

Aunt  Rhoda  had  previously  informed  me  that  it  was 
expected  I  would  have  no  school  that  afternoon. 

The  \Vest  \Vallen  minister  officiated  on  the  occasion 
with  an  aspect  neither  more  nor  less  funereal  than  he 
had  worn  at  Noel's  wedding.  He  spoke  in  such  a  labored, 
trumpet-like  tone  of  voice  that  the  VVallencampers 
seemed,  at  first,  inspired  with  a  lively  hope,  expecting 
momentarily  that  his  breath  would  give  out,  but  in  this 
they  were  doomed  to  ever  increasing  disappointment. 

At  length,  Captain  Sartell  drew  a  bucketful  of  fresh 
water  from  the  well,  and  passed  it  around  the  room,  wink 
ing  expansively  at  each  individual  in  turn,  by  way  of 
silent  encouragement  and  support. 

Grandma  Bartlett,  observing  the  generally  tearless  as 
pect  of  the  community,  conscientiously  attempted  to  weep, 
but  being  entirely  out  of  tears,  at  her  time  of  life,  she  only 
succeeded  in  screwing  her  face  up  into  what,  in  earlier 
years,  might  have  appeared  as  a  lachrymose  expression, 
but  now  took  the  shape  of  a  fixed  and  ogreish  grin. 

The  infant  Sophronia  was  seated  on  a  bench  of  an  ex 
ceedingly  temporary  nature,  between  Grandma  Spicer  and 
Aunt  Pucinda,  both  persons  of  weight,  and  it  so  chanced, 
or,  rather,  it  followed  as  a  matter  of  course,  an  equal 
pressure  being  applied  to  both  sides,  that  the  board  sus 
taining  the  three,  broke  directly  under  that  diminutive 
victim  of  fate, awaking  her  thereby  from  feverish  slumber; 
and  whether  the  infant  Sophronia  had  an  immortal  soul 
or  not,  no  one  there  present  could  doubt  that  she  pos 
sessed  an  uncommon  paii  of  lungs. 


210  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

The  little  room  where  we  sat  was  hot  and  overcrowded, 
and  the  thought  was  running  in  my  mind  continually, 
"Poor,  restless  Wallencampers  !  and  how  happy  Mr. 
'Lihu  is  not  to  have  any  connection  with  his  funeral." 

When  the  procession  was  about  to  start  for  the  bury- 
ing-ground,  the  request  was  made  to  me  that  I  would 
blow  the  horn,  even  as  the  bell  is  usually  tolled  on  such 
occasions,  for  it  would  seem  inappropriate  for  one  of  the 
Wallcncampers  to  do  so,  they  all  having  been  related  to 
the  deceased. 

At  such  a  time,  I  could  not  refuse,  though  the  emotions 
with  which  I  crossed  over  to  the  school-house  to  perform 
this  grim  duty,  were  of  a  nature  best  known  to,  and 
appreciated  by,  myself.  My  terror  of  the  Wallencamp 
horn  had  waxed  daily.  I  believed  that  there  was  nothing 
in  the  whole  world  of  inanimate  things  on  which  I  would 
not  sooner  have  attempted  to  sound  a  funeral  dirge. 
Though  capable  of  some  variety  of  expression,  it  had 
never  yet  been  seduced  into  emitting  any  sound  in  the 
least  indicative  of  the  designs  struggling  in  the  mind  of 
the  blo'A'er.  The  human  was  paralyzed  before  it — a 
mere  machine  to  blow  into  it  and  let  come  what  would. 
And,  now,  for  the  first  time  in  my  experience,  it  took  on 
a  jubilant  strain.  I  blew  slowly ;  I  blew  solemnly.  Still, 
it  sounded  like  nothing  less  than  a  glad,  exultant,  rally 
ing  call. 

I  paused,  horrified.  From  the  rear  of  the  moving 
procession,  Aunt  Patty,  with  a  yell  and  a  frantic  gesture 
of  the  hands,  entreated  me  to  "keep  a  blowin'  !" 

And,  as  I  stood  thus  on  the  steps  of  the  deserted 
school-house  and  blew,  only  to  hear  the  wild  lamentations 
of  my  soul  translated  into  strains  of  fiendish  mirth  through 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  311 

the  medium  of  the  horn,  the  Turkey  Mogul,  arrived  on 
his  second  visit  of  examination  to  the  \Yallencamp 
school,  seemed  to  be  descending  before  my  eyes,  in  a 
vortex  of  the  giddy  atmosphere.  In  fact,  he  was  alight 
ing  from  his  buggy,  and  a  grim,  though  reassuring  smile 
sat  on  his  features. 

"  I  see  !  I  see  !  "  he  nodded  his  head.  "  You  Ve 
given  them  a  good  start,"  he  added,  succinctly,  indicating 
the  direction  of  the  Wallencampers,  "  Humph !  yes ! 
they  are  always  up  to  something  !  " 

He  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and,  maintaining  the 
same  sardonic  grin,  he,  too,  stood  and  watched  that  re 
ceding  column. 

It  was  an  odd  combination  of  circumstances.  I  had 
ceased  my  mad  though  involuntary  jubilate,  on  the  horn, 
and  was  slowly  aspiring  to  that  equanimity  of  mind  which 
the  exigencies  of  the  case  seemed  to  require,  when  the 
Turkey  Mogul  turned  abruptly  and,  without  speaking  a 
word,  handed  me  a  soiled  and  wrinkled  little  sheet  of 
paper,  the  contents  of  which  caused  my  heart,  for  an  in 
stant,  to  cease  beating,  and  then  set  it  throbbing  with  a 
wild  joy  and  exultation. 

It  was  simply  a  petition — wrought  out  of  whose  brain 
I  know  not,  but  most  curiously  inscribed  in  Aunt  Patty's 
own  hand,  and  signed  by  all  the  \Yallencampers  with 
"CAPTAIN  SARTELL,"  at  the  head,  and  "b.  ny" 
at  the  foot  —  to  the  effect  that  it  was  their  desire  that  my 
labors  might  be  longer  continued  among  them. 

Only  one,  who,  having  made  a  play-day  of  life,  turns,  at 
last,  to  attempt  some  earnest  work,  and  fails,  as  he  be 
lieves,  utterly,  and  then  catches  a  glimpse  of  unexpected 
light  in  the  darkness,  can  understand  the  impulse  given 


212  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

me  by  that  dirty  little  scroll.  It  was  such  happiness  as  I 
had  never  felt  before.  It  made  me  strangely  weak. 

44  You'll  stay,"  said  the  Turkey  Mogul,  at  length, 
"another  term,  or  we'll  consider  this  term  extended,  if 
you  please." 

"  I'll  stay  a  few  more  weeks,  anyway,"  I  said,  and  the 
Turkey  Mogul  must  have  marveled  at  the  childish  faith 
and  joy  with  which  1  clung  to  this  new  found  rock 
of  my  salvation,  '•  but  I  had  n't  thought  of  it  before," 
I  added,  a  little  faintly,  thinking  of  home. 

'*  You're  tired  ! "  said  the  Turkey  Mogul,  almost  sym 
pathetically,  "  and  hungry  !  "  he  subjoined,  quickly,  in  a 
different  tone. 

1  knew  by  this  time  that  the  Turkey  Mogul's  eyes  were 
dangerously  prone  to  have  twinkles  in  the  corners  of 
them,  yet  1  believe  1  met  their  derisive  questioning  with  a 
simple  seriousness  in  my  own. 

44  Well,  that 's  right ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  Stick  to  'em  !  Stick 
to 'em  !  I'libcdown  to  conduct  another — humph  !  another 
examination  in  a  week  or  two.  Good  bye  !  "  and  he 
gave  me  his  hand,  and  was  off  almost  before  the  little 
line  of  mourners  had  disappeared  over  the  crest  of  the 
hill.  Yet  1  remember  that  Grandma  Bartlett,  who  had 
been  deterred  by  the  infirmity  of  age  from  joining 
the  procession,  and  had  remained  at  the  window,  alone, 
regaled  the  Wallencampers,  on  their  return,  with  a 
choice  fancy,  in  which  the  Turkey  Mogul  and  1  had 
stood  **  talkin'  and  chatterin'  on  the  school- house  steps, 
for  an  hour  or  more."  Grandma  Bartlett,  though  not 
actively  disposed  to  work  mischief,  nor  possessed,  indeed, 
of  any  animate  quality,  still  cherished  a  few  of  the  dry 
formulas  of  scandal,  which  she  applied  to  any  seemingly 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  213 

favorable  combination  of  circumstances.  The  Wallen- 
campcrs,  at  any  time,  paid  but  little  attention  to  her 
words. 

And,  at  the  close  of  this  strange  clay,  I  sat  alone,  in  my 
little  room  in  the  Ark,  and  indited  a  letter  to  the  follow 
ing  elTect  : — 

11  Having  received  gratifying  overtures  from  the  people 
of  my  change,  I  had  decided,  for  reasons  which  I  could 
not  then  explain,  to  remain  at  Wallencamp  until  May,  to 
which  time  1  looked  forward  with  the  delightful  hope  of 
seeing  my  dear  ones  once  more. 

"  Meanwhile,  I  hoped  they  would  not  consider  it 
strange,  or  ungracious  of  me  to  say  that  I  should  very 
much  prefer  not  to  have  brother  Will,  or  any  one  else 
come  to  Wallencamp  to  look  after  me,  as  brother  Will 
and  some  others  had  kindly  suggested  doing.  It  would 
seem  to  imply  that  I  was  not  capable  of  taking  care  of 
myself,  a  mania  which  I  trusted  no  longer  held  possession 
of  the  family  brain.  Moreover,  Wallencamp,  though  so 
charming  a  place,  had  but  few  facilities  for  the  accommo 
dation  of  guests.  I  should  draw  on  my  salary,  now,  very 
shortly,  and  would  then  remit  the  sums  1  had  borrowed 
in  mere  temporary  embarrassment,"  etc. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
ETHEL'S  CONFESSION. 

•HE  Wallcncamp  bonfire,  like  Christmas  or  a 
Fourth  of  July  celebration  in  less  ingenious  and 
erratic  communities,  came  only  once  a  year. 
It  was  kindled  on  Eagle  Hill,  that  runs  out  Irom 
the  main  land  of  Wallencamp  into  Herrin'  River, —  the 
\Vallencampers  called  the  Hill  an  island, —  and  from 
most  points  of  view  it  answered  to  the  geographical 
description  of  "  Land  entirely  surrounded  by  water," 
seeming,  indeed,  to  stand  solitary  in  the  river,  with  an 
air  of  infinite  repose  on  its  broad,  sloping  sides  ;  green  and 
gold,  so  1  remember  it  ever,  with  the  sun  setting  over  it 
in  the  spring  time, — green  ami  gold,  in  a  crimson  river ! 

It  had  an  air  of  sublimity,  too,  looking  over  and 
beyond  the  cedars  to  the  bay,  and  down  the  length  of  the 
winding  stream  that  fretted  at  its  feet  or  lapped  them 
quietly. 

There  I  planned  to  build  a  house,  in  some  bright 
future  day,  that  should  be  in  effective  keeping  with 
the  natural  grandeur  of  the  place, —  quaint,  lordly,  sub 
stantial,  with  the  appearance  of  having  fallen  somewhat 


GATE    COD    FOLKS.  215 

into  disuse,  ivy  growing  over  the  dark  stone  walls,  and 
moss  in  the  winding  drives,  and  carved  lions  at  the 
gate. 

The  hill  was  a  favorite  resort  of  mine,  and  F.thel  had 
generally  accompanied  me  on  my  excursions  thither. 

Once  she  said  —  it  was  in  the  days  when  she  had  been 
happier  —  "I  guess  this  place  is  just  as  God  made  it 
to  begin  with." 

Ethel  had  been  struck  with  and  had  retained  an  idea 
which  she  had  probably  heard  promulgated  sometime 
at  the  West  Wallen  Sunday  School,  that,  at  the  time 
of  man's  spiritual  fall,  the  earth  also,  with  all  terrestrial 
things,  had  undergone  a  general  mixing  up.  Her  own 
idea  in  regard  to  Eagle  Hill  she  expressed  very  modestly, 
looking  off  with  a  childish  content  and  assurance  in  her 
eyes.  And  I  was  delighted  with  her. 

"  You  are  always  thinking  such  things  as  that,"  I  ex 
claimed,  enthusiastically.  "  I  know  you  are  !  " 

Ethel  blushed,  smiling,  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  ain't  often  sure,"  she  said. 

I  think  I  told  her  then  that  when  I  had  my  house 
on  the  hill,  she  should  be  the  house-keeper  to  guard  my 
keys  and  conduct  my  affairs,  '*  that  is,  my  dear,  attend 
to  all  the  little  practical  details  connected  with  living," 
and  Ethel,  to  whom  r»y  castles  on  the  Hill  were  never 
.astles  in  the  air,  but  who  believed  most  implicitly  that  I 
would,  sooner  or  later,  perform  all  things  that  ever  I 
dreamed  of  doing,  accepted  her  prospective  matronship 
with  a  becoming  sense  of  its  advantage  and  dignity. 

Eagle  Hill  was  haunted  by  a  horse,  a  pure  whit* 
horse  —  not  Noel's — with  a  flowing  mane  and  tail,  and 
a  beautiful  arched  neck.  His  motions,  the  Wallen- 


216  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

campers  said,  were  roost  fiery  and  graceful.  Occa. 
sionally  he  paused  and  fell  back,  quivering  on  his 
haunches,  looked  this  way  and  that,  and  then,  with 
a  wild  plunge,  swept  on  again,  swifter  than  before, 
Every  true  Wallencamper  could  both  see  and  hear  the 
"  white  horse  "  when  at  night,  clearly  outlined  against  the 
sky,  he  galloped  back  and  forth  along  the  very  summit  of 
the  hill. 

It  was  on  one  of  the  blackest  nights  of  the  season  that 
the  fuel,  which  less  grand  and  poetic  souls  would  doubt 
less  have  reserved  for  another  winter's  use,  was  borne 
in  jubilant  triumph  by  the  Wallencampers  up  the  sides  of 
this  sacred  and  illustrious  steep,  and  there  consumed 
in  a  most  glorious  conflagration.  The  spectacle  was 
appalling.  At  intervals  in  the  roaring  and  crackling  of 
the  flames,  was  heard  the  roar  of  the  near  ocean,  while 
the  familiar  features  of  the  landscape,  the  faces  of  the 
encircling  spectators,  stood  out  with  unreal  and  terrible 
distinctness  in  the  hellish  light. 

Emily,  who  had  coughed  all  the  way  climbing  up  the 
hill,  stood  stirring  the  fire  with  a  long  pole,  and  mak 
ing  reckless  and  facetious  remarks  the  while,  which, 
uttered  in  the  midst  of  that  unearthly  scene,  struck 
me  cold  with  horror. 

"  Come,  Bachelder,"  said  she,  "  git  onto  the  end 
of  my  pole,  and  I'll  hold  ye  over  there  a  while.  Ye 
might  as  well  be  gittin  used  to  it  1  " 

"Heh!  yes,"  said  Bachelor  Rae.  "But  what  I'm 
a  thinkin',  is  you'd  ought  to  have  a  subordinate.  I  never 
heered  —  heh  !  — of  putting  a  person  of  such  importance 
in  the  Kingdom  —  heh!  —  however  efficient  —  into  the 
position  of  Fire  Tender  1 " 


CAPE   COD   FOLKS.  217 

"  Crazy  Silvy  "  was  at  the  bonfire.  I  had  never  seen 
her  before.  Silvy  did  not  go  out  on  ordinary  occasions. 
I  watched  her  as  she  stood  with  a  scant,  thin  shawl 
thrown  over  her  head,  looking  intently  into  the  flames, 
shivering  often,  and  smiling  as  she  moved  her  lips  in 
apparently  delightful  conversation  with  herself. 

Some  of  the  children  essayed  to  tease  her;  she  seemed 
quite  unconscious  of  their  efforts,  but  I  turned  and  spoke 
to  them  rather  sharply.  The  next  time  I  looked  up,  her 
strange,  smiling  eyes  were  fixed  full  on  my  face.  I 
glanced  away  quickly,  with  a  nervous  shiver,  and  moved 
a  little  farther  off.  As  I  did  so,  Silvy,  regarding  me  in 
that  same  dreamily  contemplative  manner,  walked  toward 
me  a  step  or  two,  and  as  I  continued  to  move  away,  she 
walked  slowly  after  me. 

My  acquaintance  with  the  unconfincd  insane  had  not 
been  extensive  enough  to  allow  me  to  regard  her  motions 
with  that  mingled  amusement  and  curiosity,  which  was 
the  only  sentiment  expressed  on  the  countenances  of  the 
Wallencampers  who  stood  watching  us  ;  but  I  concluded 
that  it  was  better  to  face  about,  and  meet  my  pursuer 
with  an  air  of  fearlessness.  I  did  so,  and  held  out  my 
hand  to  her  as  she  came  up. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Silvy?  "  I  said. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Silvy,  thrusting  her  hands  behind 
her,  laughing  softly,  and  shaking  her  head.  "  Not  with 
the  queen  of  Heaven  !  Not  with  the  queen  of  Heaven  ! " 

I  thought  I  detected  Emily's  derisive  influence  in 
this,  poor,  simple  creature's  words.  Silvy  was  so  per 
fectly  mild  and  harmless  in  appearance,  however,  that  I 
began  to  feel  reassured. 

"  I've  heard  about  YOU,  Silw,"  I  continued,  cheerfully. 


218  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  I  'm  the  teacher,  you  know.  You  Ve  heard  them  speak 
of  the  teacher?" 

"  So  glad/'  continued  Silvy,  in  that  same  low,  cooing 
tone,  "  so  glad  to  meet  the  queen  of  Heaven." 

"  Hush  ! "  said  I  then.  "  You  mustn't  say  that  again. 
Draw  your  shawl  up  tighter."  For  in  spite  of  the  bon 
fire,  the  wind  was  blowing  cold  on  the  hill. 

While  I  spoke  Silvy  had  become  absorbed  in  watching 
the  fire  again.  I  would  have  walked  quietly  away,  but  as 
I  turned  to  go,  she  thrust  her  head  towards  me  quickly 
and  whispered : 

"  Wait !  don 't — you — ever — tell  ?  " 

Silvy  put  her  hand  to  her  lips. 

"  No,"  said  I,  smiling. 

"Silvy  never  told,"  she  went  on,  "except  to  you. 
You  Ve  got  a  key.  Silvy's  got  a  key.  She  keeps  things 
all  locked  up,  Silvy  does.  Emily  don't  have  any  key. 
She  talks — she  talks  all  over — don't  you  tell — but  Silvy 
lives  with  Emily — so  bad,"  said  Silvy,  heaving  a  gentle 
sigh  and  speaking  in  a  tone  of  the  deepest  confidence, 
"  so  bad  not  to  have  any  key." 

"  That 's  true,  I  think,"  said  I,  beginning  to  find  my 
btrange  companion  rather  interesting. 

"  Yes."  Silvy  nodded  her  head  several  times  as 
though  we  understood,  we  two,  and  she  was  delighted  to 
have  discovered  the  fact. 

Then  her  eyes  wandered  again  to  the  fire,  and  she  re 
sumed  her  happy,  smiling  conversation  with  herself. 

I  thought  she  had  forgotten  me,  or  concluded  not  to 
unlock  anything  with  her  key,  when  she  turned  slowly 
and  looked  at  me,  and  seemed  to  gather  up  the  lost  train 
of  her  ideas  in  my  face. 


CAPE  COD  FOLKS.  aw 

"Silvy  watched  the  fishermen  at  Emily's,"  she  went 
on.  "  They  said,  *  Poor  Silvy  ! '  '  See  you  again  next 
time,  Silvy!'  They  are  very  p'lite,  thank  you,  and  they 
laugh  once.  'Ha!  ha!'  But  Eliot  Turner,  he  laughs 
twice.  'Ha!  ha!'  and  behind  his  sleeve,  too.  Such 
things  are  damnable  1" 

Silvy's  dulcet  tones  ran  over  that  hard  word  with  the 
mildest  and  softest  of  accents. 

"  And  they  bring  wine,"  she  continued.  "  Silvy 
cl'ared  off  the  table  one  night.  She  heard  '  em  sing,  and 
they  says  to  him,  '  what  about  pretty  Eth?'  and  he  says 
'  we  must  have  a  little  fun,  you  know,  ha  !  ha  !'  and  then, 
'  ha  !  ha  ! '  behind  his  sleeve.  Now  if  Silvy  could  keep  it 
all  together,  you  'd  straighten  it  out  maybe.  Silvy  can't 
straighten  it  out.  Where  did  she  hear  so  much,  I 
wonder  !  She  hears  too  much,  Silvy  does." 

She  knitted  her  brows  in  pitiful  perplexity. 

"  You  were  talking  about  the  fisherman,"  said  I. 

"No,"  said  Silvy,  shaking  her  head,  "about  Eth. 
She  never  says,  '  Crazy  Silvy  !  There  she  goes  !  Look  at 
Silvy  ! '  She  says,  '  Come  and  see  me,  Silvy,'  so.  So 
soft  spoken.  Silvy  loves  her." 

"  I  love  her,  too,"  I  said,  gently,  for  Silvy  had  paused 
again,  and  was  knitting  her  brows  in  that  painful  manner, 
as  though  the  effort  to  think  gave  her  actual  physical 
suffering. 

"  Silvy  knows  !  Silvy  knows  !  "  She  exclaimed  sud 
denly,  her  face  all  sirooth  and  softly  smiling  now. 
"Never — you— trust  a  neat  man,"  impressively. 
"Never  you  trust  'em — for  why?  They  wasn't  made 
so.  God  made  'em.  God  made  'em  to  clutter.  And 
there  was  that  Eliot  Turner .  He  was  always  a'  hangin* 


230  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

things  up.  He  was  always  foldin'  of  'em.  He  was 
always  a  hangin'  'em  up  in  his  room.  Silvy  knows. 
But  there  was  a  piece  of  writin'  got  over  behind  the  bury. 
And  it  didn't  fall.  But  it  stuck.  Silvy  knows.  She 
reads  writin'.  She  reads  it  over  and  over.  He  did  n't 
love  Eth  any  more.  But  he  's  afraid.  And  he  '11  give 
money.  'Oh,  go  anywhere  !  Only  keep  still,  Eth.  For 
Heaven's  sake,  keep  still.'  Why,  she  would  n't  hurt 
him  !  Eth  would  n't  hurt  him,"  said  Silvy  in  a  slow  tone 
full  of  wonder. 

"  He  need  n't  be  afraid.  But  Silvy  won  't  tell  him  so. 
Why  not  ?  Oh,  she  likes  to  be  amused.  Silvy  likes  to 
be  amused  ! " 

"  Silvy  knows  !  Silvy  knows  !  "  She  continued,  after 
another  terrible  pause.  "  She  set  eyes  on  you,  standin* 
there.  That 's  the  one,  she  says,  and  she  says  it  a  long 
time.  That 's  the  queen  of  Heaven.  She  would  n't  hurt 
Silvy,  poor  Silvy  !  She  's  got  a  key.  So  she  '11  straighten 
it  out,  maybe.  Silvy  can't,  she  's  so  tired.  When  Silvy 
got  up  in  the  morning,  it  was  early.  Oh,  so  still !  And 
a  bird  was  flyin'  up — up.  Silvy  could  n't  see — so  far  to 
Heaven.  It  made  Silvy  cry.  So  strange  not  to  be  any 
tired 'in  the  mornin'." 

Silvy  made  a  last  painful  effort  to  collect  her  thoughts, 
before  her  face  resumed  its  habitual,  far  away,  half  smil 
ing  expression. 

Then  she  said,  "  Silvy  comes  up  the  hill  all  alone. 
Not  the  way  them  others,  and  she  see  the  fire  burn  in*. 
But  it  was  dark  in  the  bush.  Silvy  heard  'em  talkin* 
terribly.  It  was  Eth  and  George  Olver.  '  I  '11  make  an 
honest  home  for  you  Eth.1  And  she  says,  terribly,  she 
no  deserve.  And  he  says,  she  better  than  him,  and 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  221 

won't  she  come  ?  And  she  cries  so,  '  My  heart  is  broke ! ' 
And  how  good  to  live  with  him  she  knows,  now  —  so 
honest  and  true —  but  she  no  fit,  and,  oh,  *  My  heart  is 
broke  !  my  heart  is  broke  ! ' " 

The  scene,  the  vividness  of  these  words  had  not  yet 
faded  in  the  least  from  Silvy's  memory. 

"Then,"  said  she,  "they  keep  on  talkin',  terribly. 
But  Silvy — she  hears  so  much — poor  Silvy  !  She  goes 
'round  very  still,  'nother  way.  Silvy's  tired." 

And,  as  unceremoniously  as  she  had  approached  me, 
she  turned  and  walked  slowly  back  to  her  old  position 
before  the  fire.  She  did  not  look  at  me.  She  seemed  to 
have  become  utterly  unconscious  of  my  presence.  The 
scant,  thin  shawl  had  fallen  back  from  her  head.  She 
shivered  as  she  stood  gazing  into  the  flames,  but  the 
dreamy  expression  was  ever  in  her  eyes  and  the  soft 
laugh  on  her  lips,  as  she  continued  murmuring  to  herself. 

The  Wallencampers  were  not  content  to  let  the  fire 
go  out  after  the  first  grand  illumination.  They  were 
bringing  up  more  brush  from  the  landward  side  of  the  hill, 
amid  a  confusion  of  wild  shouts  and  excited  laughter. 

I  found  Ethel  among  a  group  of  girls. 

"  When  you  go  home  to-night,"  I  said,  "  I  want  you 
to  step  in  and  see  me.  Come  up  to  my  room." 

"  Yes  "  said  Ethel,  and  I  noticed  how  pale  she  turned 
in  the  fire  light.  I  did  not  say  any  more  to  her,  then. 

After  hearing  Silvy's  story,  I  believed  that  Mr.  Turner 
had  acted  a  heartless  and  unmanly  part  towards  Ethel, 
made  love  to  her  which  he  could  not  doubt  the  poor  girl 
took  in  earnest,  and  even  promises  which  he  knew  he 
should  lightly  break  sometime,  and  then,  for  his  own 
purposes,  he  begged  her  to  keep  silence.  I  thought 


222  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

I  understood,  and  resolved  to  instruct  Ethel  to  forget  the 
red  haired  fisherman,  to  be  "  sensible,"  and  "  marry 
good,  honest  George  Olver,"  who  loved  her  so  devotedly. 

Benney  had  come  home,  and  was  one  among  the  many 
figures  at  this  brilliant  fete.  Indeed,  the  bonfire  had  been 
deferred  until  later  than  usual  in  the  season,  by  reason  of 
his  absence,  and  now  he  was  noticeably  the  lion  of  the 
evening,  in  a  brave  dark  blue  cravat,  that  was  borne  out 
ward  by  the  wind,  or  fluttered  becomingly  under  his  chin, 
to  the  envy  and  despair  of  all  the  Wallencamp  youth. 
He  exchanged  a  pleasant  greeting  with  every  one,  and 
brought  the  largest  young  tree  of  all  up  the  hill  on 
his  broad  shoulders. 

When,  at  length,  the  Wallencampers  had  permitted  the 
fire  to  burn  low,  they  joined  hands  in  a  ring  around 
the  embers,  and  sang  the  saddest  and  sweetest  songs 
in  the  Hymnal.  I  sat  on  a  rock  near  by,  engaged 
as  I  had  been  much  of  the  time  since  my  arrival 
in  Wallencamp,  in  trying  to  realize  the  situation  —  the 
awful  gloom  of  the  night,  the  river  now  invisible,  below, 
the  sound  of  the  surf  farther  off,  that  made  my  heart 
sick,  and  with  it  the  strange  mingling  of  those  religious 
songs,  the  lonely  hill,  the  smouldering  fire,  the  fantastic 
group  gathered  around. 

When  I  got  back  to  the  Ark,  I  found  Ethel  waiting  for 
me.  She  followed  me  up  to  my  room,  and  I  closed  the 
door. 

"  You  see  I  waited  long  enough  for  you  to  come  of 
your  own  accoid,"  I  said  laughing.  Then  I  drew  a 
chair  in  front  of  her.  She  sat  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and 
I  addressed  her  gravely. 

"  Now,  Ethel,  something  is  the  matter.    You  are  not 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  223 

the  merry,  light  hearted  girl  you  were,  when  I  first  knew 
you.  And  I  can  help  you  perhaps.  I  will  help  you. 
Tell  me  what  the  trouble  is  ! " 

I  thought  I  should  see  the  tears  gathering  in  Ethel's 
eyes,  but  she  looked,  instead,  so  stonily  disconsolate,  that 
I  was  rather  dismayed. 

"  I'm  going  to  tell  you,"  said  she,  "  but  you  can't  help 
me.  They'll  all  know  before  long,  I  guess.  I  don't  care. 
You  talk  good,  but  you  don't  say  much  about  God.  I 
guess  you  don't  believe  there 's  none.  I  don't.  I  can't 
understand.  I'm  like  I'd  got  lost,  somehow,  and  when 
they  found  me,  they  'd  stone  me  —  I  don't  care.  I  Vc 
felt  enough.  I  don't  feel  no  more.  I  Ve  cried  so  much, 
I  guess  I  can't  cry  no  more.  If  I  could  it  ud  be  now, 
tellin'  you. 

"When  Miss  Taite  came  here  to  teach,  I  hadn't 
ever  had  no  friend  except  the  girls  here,  and  they 
was  n't  bad,  but  we  was  always  runnin'  wild  around  in  the 
lots,  and  down  to  shore,  and  always  laughin'  and  plaguin' 
the  teacher  in  school.  And  when  Miss  Taite  came,  she 
wasn't  like  you,  nor  she  didn't  have  such  clothes, 
nor  such  ways  as  yours.  I  did  n't  love  her  very  much, 
but  she  used  to  talk  to  me,  and  wanted  me  to  be  a 
Christian.  And  she  didn't  tell  me  all  it  was  to  be 
a  Christian  like  you  have,  or  I  wouldn't  a'  been  such 
a  fool  to  think  I  could  be ;  but  she  talked  like  it  was  n't 
anything  to  understand,  only  to  want  Christ  in  your 
heart,  and  try  to  be  good,  and,  first,  I  did  n't  pretend  to 
mind  much  what  she  said,  and  used  to  tell  the  girls,  and 
they  'd  tell  me,  too,  and  we'd  laugh.  Only  one  time,  she 
was  talkin'  to  me,  and  it  seemed  as  though  I  could  n't 
hold  out  no  longer,  and  I  cried  and  cried,  and  when 


224  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

I  got  up,  I  felt  happy.  Just  as  though  He  was  there. 
Seemed  as  though  He  was  all  around  everywhere,  and 
goin'  down  the  lane,  there  was  a  whip-poor-will  singin', 
and  it  sounded  like  it  never  had  before  —  so  strange  and 
happy  —  and  I  always  loved  'em  after  that  —  but  I  never 
shall  again. 

"  And  I  tried  to  be  good,  and  quieter,  and  have 
the  other  girls  and  the  children  at  home;  and  when 
Father  was  drunk  and  noisy,  and  some  of  the  folks 
laughed,  I  would  n't  give  up  — quite.  Oh,  I  did  n't  feel 
like  1  was  bad  then!  I  didn't!  You  might  remember 
that.  I  had  n't  much  manners,  but  I  never  thought  any 
thing  bad.  Sometime  you  might  remember  that. 

"  Then  Mr.  Turner  came,  and  he  might  a  killed  me, 
and  it  ud  been  a'  kindness ;  but  he  had  n't  no  such  kind 
heart  as  that.  He  used  to  make  excuses  for  meetin'  me. 
He  would  n't  look  at  any  of  the  other  girls.  He  said  he 
could  n't  see  no  beauty  in  anybody  else.  He  said  I  was 
the  only  one  on  eanh  he  loved.  He  said  he  would  n't 
care  what  became  of  him  if  I  was  n't  good  to  him. 

"  I  thought  George  never  talked  to  me  so  much 
as  that,  and  I  trusted  him  every  word.  It  was  all 
so  different.  I  thought  I  loved  him,  too.  He  talked 
about  how  he  should  take  me  to  Providence,  and  I  said  I 
had  n't  much  manners  or  education,  and  they'd  laugh  at 
me.  He  said  there  was  n't  another  such  a  face  there,  and 
if  he  was  suited,  they  might  laugh.  And  he  used  to  talk 
about  how  I'd  look  all  dressed  up  in  his  house,  down 
there  —  and  I  don't  see  !  I  don't  see  !  I  trusted  every 
word. 

"  It  would  n't  have  been  no  different,  anyway.  I  loved 
you  when  you  came.  When  he  went  with  you,  I  tried  to 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  225 

hate  you.  I  hated  him,  but  I  never  hated  you  !  In  my 
heart,  teacher,  I  never  hated  you.  You  might  think 
of  that,  sometime " 

"  Well,  my  dear  little  girl,"  I  interrupted  her,  "it  seems 
we  have  both  been  somewhat  deceived  in  the  fisherman, 
but  doubtless,  we  shall  recover  in  time.  You  don't  like 
him,  neither  do  I.  We  '11  dismiss  the  subject  from  our 
minds,  forever.  There's  a  good,  honest  boy  here  in 
Wallencamp,  that  a  girl  I  know,  ought  to  busy  her  head 
about.  Why  trouble  ourselves  with  disagreeable  things  ?" 

"You  might  think,  sometime,"  Ethel  went  on,  with 
the  same  hopeless  expression,  and  in  the  same  tense 
voice,  "  I  never  knew  that  about  not  trustin'  anybody 
till  you  told  me.  I  had  n't  never  be'n  away  from  here. 
I  wasn't  brought  up  like  you,  and  I  wasn't  so  strong 
as  you  —  you  might  think,  sometime  —  but  not  now.  I 
don't  ask  to  have  you  now  —  you  don't  see.  I  knew  you 
wouldn't — you  can  forget  —  you're  so  happy — think 
of  that,  sometime,  how  happy  you  was,  sittin'  there — but 
I  never  can  forget  any  more.  I  say  it  'ud  be'n  better  if 
I'd  a  died.  It's  the  sin  and  the  shame.  I've  nothin' 
but  to  bear  'em,  now,  as  long  as  I  live.  Oh,  you  might 
think  what  it  was  not  to  have  no  hope  anywheres  ! " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  cried,  as  it  rushed  over  me 
in  that  instant.  I  had  been  too  heedless  and  slow 
to  comprehend  the  possible  wretched  meaning  of  her 
words. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  rising  and  standing  over  her, 
with  a  terrible  sense  of  power  to  convict. 

"  Oh,  Ethel,  you  didn't  mean  that  —  worst?  " 

"Yes,"  said  she,  with  no  visible  change  on  her  poor, 
set  face  —  "yes  —  I  do." 


$26  CAPE    COD   FOLKS. 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  out  of  my  room,  and  leave  me  ! s 
I  exclaimed,  then,  "I  am  not  used  to  such  people 
as  you  !  Do  you  suppose  I  would  have  been  with  you 
all  these  weeks  if  I  had  known?  Don't  you  see 
how  you  have  wronged  me?  I  never  want  to 
see  you  again,  never  !  Go  !  go  !  and  leave  me  alone  !  " 

I  shall  never  forget  the  look  with  which  Ethel  rose 
wearily,  and  went  to  the  door  —  not  an  angry  look,  not 
a  look  of  terror  nor  even  of  pleading  reproach,  but  it 
was  as  if  her  soul,  sinful,  crushed  and  bleeding  though 
it  was,  in  that  one  moment,  rose  above  my  soul  and  con 
demned  it  with  sorrowful,  clear  eyes. 

I  listened  to  her  step  going  clown  the  stairs.  I  did 
not  call  her  back.  I  heard  her  latch  the  outer  door  of 
the  Ark.  No  thought  of  pity  for  her  wrong,  or  com 
miseration  for  her  desolation  moved  me.  I  thought 
only  in  my  proud  selfish  passion,  how  miserably,  how 
bitterly  I  had  been  deceived. 

I  sought  out  the  fisherman's  letter,  before  retiring, 
and  the  one  I  had  begun  in  answer,  and  tore  them  both 
into  shreds,  believing  that  I  should  as  easily  rid  my 
mind  of  the  whole  miserable  affair  with  which  I 
had  been  unwittingly  complicated 


CHAPTER  Xin. 

A  MUD  WINTER  ON  THE  CAPE. 

IT'S   be'n  a  mild  winter  on  the  Cape,"  the 
Wallencampers  congratulated  one  another, 
blinking,  with  a  delicious  sense  of  warmtk 
and  comfort,  in  the  rays  of  a  strong  March  sun. 

The  Wallencampers  were  not,  perhaps,  generally  in 
cited  by  that  love  of  stern,  unceasing  and  vigorous  exer 
tion  which  is,  geographically  considered,  one  of  the 
chief  characteristics  of  our  hardy  northern  races.  True 
poets  and  idealists  they  were  lazy,  and  they  had  but 
few  clothes,  both  excellent  reasons  for  inclining  kindly 
to  the  warm  weather. 

And  yet,  notwithstanding  this,  they  had  grown  used  to 
a  wild  ruggedness  of  nature  and  condition,  a  terrible, 
sublime  uncertainty  about  life  and  things  in  general  when 
the  wind  blew,  missing  which,  in  this  earthly  state,  they 
would  have  pined  most  sadly.  And  I  do  not  believe 
that  they  would  have  exchanged  their  rugged,  storm 
swept,  wind-beleaguered  little  section  of  Cape  Cod,  for  a 


228  CAPE    COD   FOLKS. 

realm  in  sunny  Italy  itself;  no,  not  even  if  the  waves 
of  that  bright  clime  had  rippled  over  sands  of  literal 
gold,  and  their  winter  had  been  nine  months  in  the  year 
instead  of  the  customary  six.  and  a  half. 

"  A  mild  winter  on  the  Cape."  Grandpa  Spicer  often 
repeated  the  words,  and,  sitting  by  the  fire  at  night,  his 
eyes  grew  big  and  wild,  and  his  tones  took  on  a  terrible 
impressiveness  as  he  told  of  rough  winters  on  the  Cape, 
when  the  snow  lay  drifted  high  across  the  fences  in  the 
lane,  and  "  every  time  she  came  in  yender — "  pointing  in 
the  direction  of  the  Bay — "  she  licked  off  a  slice  or  two 
o'bank,  and  the  old  Ark  whirled  and  shuk  —  o'  Lordy, 
teacher  !  —  as  ef  she  'd  slipped  her  moorin's  and  gone  off 
on  a  high  sea,  and  ef  you'd  a  heerd  the  wind  a 
screechin'  inter  them  winders,  you  'd  a  thought  the  — " 

"Hoggarty  Spicer  1"  Grandma  Spicer  spoke.  She 
said  no  more.  It  was  enough. 

"You'd  a  thought  something  had  got  loose,  sure," 
concluded  Grandpa,  with  a  keen  glance  aside  at  me  that 
revealed,  as  with  tenfold  significance,  the  obstructed 
force  of  his  narrative. 

In  the  daytime,  Grandpa  was  now  much  out  of  doors. 
He  had  most  frequent  and  loving  recourse  to  an  inter 
esting  looking  pile  of  rubbish  at  the  south  end  of  the 
barn.  There  he  sat,  and  napped,  and  nodded,  and  em 
ployed  the  brief  interims  of  wakeful  ness  in  whittling 
bean  poles,  preparatory  for  another  year's  supply  of  that 
dreaded  and  inexorable  crop.  Earth's  disturbing  voices, 
Grandma  Spicer,  herself,  seldom  reached  him  there. 

Early,  too,  I  saw  him  in  the  garden,  leaning  pensively 
on  his  hoe  —  a  becalmed  and  striking  figure  in  a  ragged 
snuff-colored  coat,  and  a  hat  marked  by  numerous  smaU 


CAPJS    COD   FOLKS.  339 

orifices,  through  which,  here  and  there,  strands  from  his 
silvery  fringe  of  hair  strayed  and  waved  in  the  breezes. 

It  was  Grandma  and  Grandpa  Spicer's  custom  at  the 
first  approach  of  spring  to  detach  themselves  from  Aba- 
gail  's  household,  and  to  form  a  separate  and  complete 
establishment  of  their  own  in  the  sunny  kitchen,  away  out 
at  the  end  of  the  Ark.  I  was  still,  nominally,  Abagail's 
boarder  and  sat  at  the  table  with  her  and  the  little  Spicers ; 
but  the  impulses  of  my  heart  were  ever  guiding  my 
feet  to  that  other  dear  resort,  where  doors  and  hearts 
seemed  always  open  to  receive  me,  and  an  inexpressible 
warmth  and  light  and  comfort  pervaded  the  atmosphere. 

It  was  early  in  March,  when,  returning  from  school  one 
day  at  the  noon-tide  intermission,  I  found  Grandma  stand 
ing  without  the  Ark,  singularly  occupied.  The  sun  was 
shining  on  her  uncovered  head,  and  the  tranquil  glow  on 
her  face  was  clearly  the  exponent  of  no  fictitious  happiness. 
In  her  apron  she  had  a  quantity  of  empty  egg  shells,  so 
carefully  drained  of  their  contents  as  to  present  an  almost 
perfect  external  appearance,  and  these  she  was  arranging 
on  the  twigs  of  a  large  bush  that  grew  just  outside  the 
window. 

I  was  glad,  afterwards,  that  I  intruded  then  no  skepti 
cal  questions  as  to  her  purpose,  for,  as  I  stood  and  looked 
at  her,  her  action  gradually  lost  for  me  the  tinge  of 
eccentricity,  with  which  it  had  at  first  seemed  imbued. 
I  realized  that  there  was  something  grander  than  reason, 
more  exalted  than  philosophy. 

"I  suppose  you've  heerd  about  egg  plants,  teacher," 
said  she,  at  length,  turning  to  me,  while  the  sun  in  her 
face  broke  up  into  scintillant  beams  that  penetrated  my 
being,  and  quickened  my  very  soul.  "  This  'ere  old  bush 


230  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

ain't  bore  nothln'  for  years,  and  it  looked  so  bare  and 
sorrerful,  somehow,  standin'  out  here  all  alone,  and 
everything  else  a  kinder  wakin'  up  in  the  spring,  I  thought 
I'd  try  to  sorter  liven  it  up  a  little;"  and  she  resumed 
her  placid  occupation. 

"  Blessed  Grandma,"  I  could  only  murmur,  as  I  turned 
to  enter  the  Ark,  "  inspired,  delightful  soul !  " 

It  was  in  March  that  the  Wallencamp  sun-bonnets 
came  forth,  all  in  a  single  day,  a  curious  and  startling 
pageant.  The  Modoc,  who  had  gone  bare-headed 
through  the  winter,  assumed  hers  as  a  turban  of  im 
pressive  altitude,  while  the  diminutive  Carietta  and  the 
infant  Sophronia  appeared  but  as  vagrant  telescopes  on 
insufficient  pegs. 

In  March,  the  "  pipers  "  lifted  up  their  homesick  notes 
at  night-fall,  in  the  meadows.  On  the  last  day  of  that 
month,  I  found  arbutus  in  bloom  under  the  leaves  in  the 
cedar  woods. 

Scarcely  had  the  first  faint  signs  of  herbage  appeared 
on  the  earth  ere  the  Wallencamp  cows  and  horses  were 
given  over  exclusively  to  the  guardianship  of  nature,  and 
to  wander  whithersoever  they  would,  for  the  Wallencamp 
fences  had  ceased  to  present  themselves  as  obstacles  in 
the  way.  Indeed,  some  portions  of  them  had  been 
utterly  obliterated ;  and  this  was  easily  traced  to  a  habit 
prevalent  among  the  Wallencampers  of  resorting  to  them 
for  fuel  when,  on  some  winter  night,  other  resources 
were  found  to  be  low. 

Other  portions  of  them  were  decayed,  or  blown  over 
in  the  wind,  so  that  there  was  just  enough  left  to  sit  on 
for  private  soliloquy,  or  social  debate,  and  to  give  a  pic 
turesque  charm  to  the  landscape;  yet,  it  was  a  fact 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  231 

which  I  found  worthy  of  notice,  that,  in  going  from  one 
place  to  another,  no  true  Wallencamper  ever  walked 
over  a  broken-down  part  of  the  fence,  or  went  through 
a  gap  in  the  fence ;  he  always  selected  an  upright  part  of 
the  fence  to  climb  over,  even  going  a  little  out  of  the 
way,  if  necessary,  to  effect  this  purpose. 

The  Wallencampers  were  staunch  on  the  matter  of  in 
dividual  rights ;  they  turned  each  his  own  horse  and  cow 
into  his  own  door  yard.  Animated,  doubtless,  by  some 
thing  of  the  same  principle,  those  attenuated  animals 
having  made  an  impartial  detour  of  the  premises,  congre 
gated,  as  of  one  accord,  along  the  highway,  especially  in 
that  part  of  the  lane  between  the  Ark  and  the  school- 
house. 

I  made  my  way  through  these  new  perils  from  day  to 
day,  in  safety,  until  the  deepening  green  of  the  hills  and 
fields  called  the  herd  away  to  wider  pastures. 

Dr.  Abernethy,  however,  remained  behind.  Dr.  Aber- 
nethy  as  he  was  termed  by  the  Wallencampers  was  a 
horse  of  peculiar  and  distinguished  parts.  Among  his 
other  eccentric  gifts,  he  had  a  harmless  habit  of  chasing 
beings  of  a  superior  race.  In  what  manner  this  propen 
sity  had  first  manifested  itself,  I  do  not  know,  but  it  had 
been  eagerly  seized  upon  as  ground  for  further  develop 
ment  by  the  juvenile  element  of  Wallen camp,  and  espe 
cially  by  the  Modoc,  under  whose  lively  tuition  the  animal 
had  reached  an  almost  strategic  ability  in  the  art. 

Dr.  Abernethy  was  truly  of  the  mildest  disposition  im 
aginable.  He  had  never  been  known  to  kick.  He  had 
never  even  been  known  to  open  his  mouth  and  snap  at  a 
fly,  but  the  expression  of  his  countenance,  if  it  might  be 
so  called,  when  he  was  on  the  chase,  was  vicious  and  de- 


332  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

termined  in  the  extreme,  and  by  no  means  betrayed  the 
purely  facetious  nature  of  his  intentions.  During  school 
hours  he  seldom  wandered  from  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
the  school- house,  where  he  appeared  to  be  waiting  for  the 
children  to  come  out  to  play.  Often  have  I  looked  up 
to  see  him  gazing  in  at  the  windows  with  a  gleam  of  evil 
expectancy  in  his  melancholy  dun  brown  eye. 

With  the  joyful  advent  of  the  Spring  came,  also, 
Tommy's  tame  owl  and  "  Happy  Moses."  Tommy's  owl 
emerged  from  his  winter  quarters,  and  took  up  his  daily 
post  of  observation  on  the  fence  on  the  shady  side  of  the 
school-house.  He  was  blind  in  one  eye,  which  eye  was 
always  open,  the  other  was  always  closed.  Yet  with  that 
one  glassy,  unblinking  orb,  Tommy's  owl  seemed  to  me, 
as  I  lifted  my  eyes  to  the  window,  to  be  reviewing  the 
past  with  an  indifference,  as  calm  and  all  embracing  as 
that  with  which  he  sent  his  inexorable  gaze  into  the  future, 
and  to  take  in  me  and  the  passing  events  of  the  school 
room  as  a  mere  speck  in  his  kaleidoscopic  vision  of  the 
ages. 

What  was  the  winter's  thraldom  from  which  Happy 
Moses  had  escaped,  I  never  learned.  He  was  a  broad 
shouldered  fellow,  six  feet  in  height,  with  a  beard  like  flax, 
and  a  sunny,  ingenuous  countenance.  What  term  should 
have  been  applied  to  his  eccentricities  in  politer  circles  I 
cannot  say,  but  in  Wallencamp,  he  was  artlessly  desig 
nated  as  "  the  fool."  Whether  it  was  on  this  account,  that 
with  a  certain  rashness  of  perception  peculiar  to  theWa- 
Jlencampers,  they  always  prefixed  the  adjective  "  happy  " 
to  his  name,  or  merely  on  account  of  the  transparent 
sunniness  of  his  disposition,  I  cannot  say,  either. 

Happy  Moses    played    with  the   children.    He  re- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  333 

g;  rded  me,  as  one  of  the  class  of  those  who  presume  to 
t(  ach,  with  mingled  scorn  and  aversion.  When  I  went  to 
tl  e  door  to  blow  the  children  in  from  their  play,  he  in- 
v  tfiablv  turned  his  back  upon  me,  cocked  his  hat  on  the 
side  of  his  head,  and  walked  away  with  an  air  that  was 
p  ilpably  reckless,  defiant  and  jaunty. 

When  he  reappeared,  it  was  usually  with  his  knitting- 
work,  to  which  lie  devoted  himself  in  a  desultory  way, 
lecliningon  the  school-house  steps.  But  sometimes  he 
jat  on  the  fence  with  the  owl,  and  then  it  was  noticeable 
ihat  while  the  gaze  of  the  one  was  transient  and  silly,  the 
gaze  of  the  other  seemed  to  grow  the  more  unutterably 
searching  and  profound.  So,  at  last,  the  new  term  was 
fairly  established  with  these  three — Dr.  Abernethy, 
Happy  Moses  and  the  owl. 

Hulled  corn  and  beans  had  now  become  but  as  a 
dream  of  the  past  in  Wallencamp,  and  for  a  brief  season 
before  the  accession  of  lobsters,  life  was  mainly  supported 
on  winter-green-berries,  or  box-berries,  as  they  were 
called.  These  grew  in  large  quantities  at  "Black 
Ground  "  a  section  of  the  woods  which  had  been  burned 
over.  Daily  I  met  happy  groups  of  Wallencampers, 
with  baskets  and  pails  in  their  hands,  going  "boxberry 
plummin.'" 

We  had  boxberry  bread,  boxberry  stews  and  pies,  and 
one  day,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  Grandma,  in  her  part  of 
the  Ark,  frying  boxberry  griddle-cakes. 

Grandpa,  when  I  met  him,  at  this  time,  wore  an  air  of 
deep  dejection  ;  yet  he  bore  his  woes  in  silence,  doubtless 
avoiding  any  concession  that  should  suggest  the  need  of 
another  clarification  of  his  system.  Once,  when  nobody 
was  looking,  he  cautiously  withdrew  a  handful  of  scraped 


234  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

birch  bark,  from  his  pocket  and  gave  it  to  me,  remarking 
that  he  thought  it  was  "  a  little  more  bracin'  than  them 
tarnal  woodsy  plums." 

Next  in  the  order  of  events,  as  the  Modoc  stood  in  her 
place  in  the  reading  class  and  slowly  enunciated  each 
separate  syllable  of  the  lesson  in  a  tone  as  remarkable 
for  its  distinctness  as  it  was  for  a  total  lack  of  meaning 
and  modulation,  from  that  side  of  her  dress  which 
had  been  sagging  most  heavily,  something  fell  with  a 
crash  to  the  floor.  It  was  a  boiled  lobster  of  anomalous 
proportions.  The  pocket  had  given  way  at  last  under  its 
overpowering  burden,  and  now  appeared  ignominously 
upborne  on  the  claws  of  its  former  prisoner.  The  Modoc 
seized  the  crustacean  with  glittering  defiance  in  her  eyes, 
and  at  recess,  I  saw  that  turbaned  Amazon  devouring 
it,  with  a  group  of  wishful  and  admiring  faces  gathered 
round.  The  boys  were  out  in  the  bay  "setting  pots" 
and  "trolling  for  bait."  Soon,  not  a  child  atWallen- 
camp  was  lobsterless.  I  discovered  two  under  the 
infant  Sophronia's  desk  one  morning,  and  afterwards 
kept  a  sharp  eye  in  that  direction.  Sophronia's  conduct 
throughout  the  session  was  in  an  unusual  degree  ex 
emplary.  I  detected  no  guilty  blush  on  her  counte 
nance,  I  heard  not  the  crackling  of  a  claw,  but  when 
she  went  out,  I  observed  that  she  took  no  lobsters  with 
her. 

Investigating  the  place  where  she  had  been  sitting, 
I  found  a  wild  confusion  of  claws  and  shells,  as  carefully 
denuded  of  meat  as  though  they  had  been  turned  inside 
out  for  that  purpose. 

What  was  my  surprise  and  mortification  to  find  a  like 
collection  at  nearly  every  seat  in  the  school-room, 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  235 

and  all  the  while  my  flock  had  seemed  unusually  silent 
and  attentive,  such  proficiency  had  those  children  ac 
quired  in  the  art  of  dissecting  lobsters. 

I  saw  how  many  they  devoured  day  by  day,  and  how 
much  water  they  drank,  and  I  fancied  that  they  them 
selves  grew  to  partake  more  and  more  of  the  form  and 
character  of  marine  animals.  I  believed  that  they  could 
have  existed  equally  well  crawling  at  the  bottom  of  the 
deep,  or  swimming  on  its  surface. 

We  had  lobsters,  too,  at  the  Ark.  For  the  first  day  or 
two  of  this  dispensation,  Grandpa's  face  perceptibly 
brightened.  At  the  end  of  two  weeks  it  was  longer  than 
ever  before. 

He  came  over  from  his  potato  patch,  I  remember,  and 
leaned  on  the  fence,  as  I  was  going  by  to  school. 

"  It 's  be'n  a  mild  winter  on  the  Cape,  teacher,"  he 
observed,  studying  the  heavens  with  an  air  of  utter  ab 
straction.  Then  his  glance  fell  as  it  were  inadvertently  in 
the  direction  of  the  house,  and  he  immediately  continued 
with  a  peculiar  spark  of  animation  kindling  in  his  eye, 
"  I  've  et  so  many  o'  them  'tarnal  critturs,  teacher, 
that  I  swon  if  I  don't  feel  like  a  'tarnal,  long  fingered, 
sprawl  in'  shell-fish,  myself!  But  it's  comin'  nigh  time 
for  ale-whops.  They're  very  good,  teacher,  ale-whops 
are — very  good,  though  they're  bony  as  the — they're 
'tarnal  bony,  teacher.  They 're  what  we  call  herrins'  in 
the  winter." 

Grandpa  then  laughed  a  little,  and  showed  his  teeth. 

"  I  was  goin*  to  tell  ye,  Bachelder  Rae,  here,"  he  went 
on,  "  he  was  a  askin*  Captain  Sartell  what  kind  o'  fish 
them  was  that  it's  recorded  in  the  Scriptures  to  a'  fed  the 
multitude,  and  then  took  up  so  many  baskets  full  o' 


236  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

leavin's,  and  the  Captain  told  him  that  as  to  exactly 
what  manner  of  fish  them  was,  he  hadn't  sufficient  ac 
quaintance  with  the  book  of  Jonah  to  say,  but,  as  near 
as  he  could  calk  'late,  he  reckoned  they  was  ale-whops. 

"And  the  Bachelder  told  him  that  it  seemed  to  .him,  he 
was  right,  and  had  solved  a  mystery,  for  it  stood  to  reason 
that  there  wa'n't  no  other  fish  but  an  ale-whop,  that  they 
could  feed  five  thousand  folks  out  of  seven  little  ones  and 
then  take  up  twelve  bushel  baskets  full  of  bones  ! 

"And  the  Captain  was  pleased,  and  kind  o'  half  owned 
up  that  he  had  n't  felt  no  ways  sure  as  to  his  surmise  to 
begin  with,  but  he  said  when  the  question  was  put  to 
him,  he  did  n't  think  no  man  ought  to  hesitate  to  come 
down  strong  on  a  doctrinal  p'int. 

Wall,  as  I  was  a  sayin',  teacher,"  concluded  Grandpa 
his  teeth  still  skinned  and  gleaming,  "it's  be'n  a  mild 
winter  on  the  Cape." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

RESCUED  BY  THE  CRADLEBOW 

]HE  ship  in  which  the  Cradlebow  expected  to 
take  flight  was  to  sail  from  New  Bedford  on 
the  twentieth  of  June.  Meantime,  having  ab 
jured  my  friendly  relations  with  Ethel,  and  missing  the 
quiet  sustenance  hitherto  supplied  my  vanity  in  the  girl's 
thoughtful  devotion,  1  found  a  measure  of  relief  for  my 
wounded  spirit  in  the  companionship  of  this  other  — 
my  boyish  and  ardent  ex-pupil. 

Many  times,  after  my  last  interview  with  Ethel,  had  I 
regretted  that  I  did  not  leave  Wallencamp  at  the  close  of 
the  first  term.  The  school  grew  continually  more  irk 
some  to  me.  I  was  not  so  strong  as  when  I  had  first  un 
dertaken  it,  and  no  longer  overlooked  the  discomforts  of 
my  situation  in  the  delight  I  had  then  experienced  in 
its  novelty.  Often  I  longed  to  get  away  from  it  all,  to  rid 
myself  abruptly  of  the  perplexities  and  distasteful  duties 
which  bound  me,  and  yet,  all  the  while,  there  was  a  truer 
impulse,  a  deeper  longing  within  me,  to  stay.  Had  I  not 
been,  all  my  life  so  far,  forsaking  my  unfinished  tasks, 


4 
238  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

quitting  an  object  as  soon  as  it  seemed  any  the  less  at 
tractive.  I  willed  to  stay,  and  labored,  still  blindly,  under 
the  conviction  that  my  regenerating  work  among  the  Wa- 
llencampers  (not  theirs  in  me ;  ah,  no !)  was  not  yet 
accomplished. 

Toward  Ethel,  I  had  not  softened.  I  was  bitterly  dis 
appointed  in  her.  She  had  been  the  formless,  pliable 
clay,  on  which  I  had  purposed  to  prove  my  pet  theories 
for  development  and  culture.  I  had  taken  her  as  a  per 
fectly  fresh  and  untainted  being,  naively  unconscious, 
even  of  the  elements,  either  good  or  bad,  of  which  her 
own  nature  was  composed,  waiting  only  for  the  hand  of  a 
wise  and  skillful  modeller,  like  myself,  to  bring  her  up  to 
the  highest  condition  of  manners  and  morals. 

This  elegant  superstructure,  a  purely  mental  product 
of  my  own,  had  fallen  away,  revealing  the  erring,  pas 
sionate  nature  beneath.  But,  deeply  as  I  mourned  the 
fall  of  my  idol,  I  felt  still  more  keenly  a  sense  of  personal 
injury,  because  the  inner  structure  on  which  I  had  been 
building,  had  not  spoken  out  and  said,  "  I  shall  contami 
nate  you.  I  am  not  fit  for  the  touch  of  your  fine  hands." 

Clearly  there  could  no  ^longer  be  any  sympathy  between 
Ethel  and  me.  I  avoided  any  occasion  for  private  inter 
view  with  the  girl.  Meeting  her  casually  in  the  lane,  or 
at  the  neighbors'  houses,  I  acknowledged  her  presence 
with  a  nod  or  a  smile,  colder,  I  knew,  than  as  if  I  had 
ignored  her  utterly. 

She  understood ;  she  was  quiet  and  unobtrusive.  She 
made  no  attempt  to  break  down  the  wall  thus  established 
between  us.  And  I  was  determined,  on  the  whole,  to  be 
more  than  just  with  Ethel.  I  would  be  kind  to  her  in 
her  disgrace.  I  would  palliate  her  weakness  as  far 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  239 

as  I  could  consistently  with  a  pure  and  high  standard  of 
action.  I  even  congratulated  myself  on  the  magnanimity 
of  my  intentions,  except  when  I  met  the  clear,  sad  gaze 
of  those  dispassionate  eyes.  Then  I  experienced  an  un 
accountable  sensation,  as  though  I  had  received  a  blow 
inwardly,  that  staggered  me,  for  an  instant,  in  my  fine  con 
ceptions  of  honor,  and  set  my  conclusions  out  of  order. 

The  Wallencampers  were  quick  to  note  the  estrange 
ment  between  us,  and  affirmed  that  "  Eth  was  mad,  and 
wouldn't  speak  to  Teacher,  along  o' Teacher's  goin'  with 
Eth's  beau." 

This  gratuitous  solution  of  the  mystery  was  not  evolved 
in  my  presence.  Still  I  knew,  that  all  through  those 
lonely,  suffering  days,  it  was  often  repeated  to  Ethel ;  that 
those  who  had  borne  the  girl  any  grudge,  or  deemed  that 
she  was  taking  airs  above  them,  took  pains,  now,  that 
the  taunt  should  reach  her  ears ;  and  even  the  children, 
who  had  always  loved  her,  uttered  it  before  her  with 
childish  thoughtlessness. 

But,  for  the  Cradlebow  ;  his  bright  dream  of  seeking 
his  fortune  over  wide  seas  and  in  distant  lands,  his  dread- 
less  enthusiasm  in  the  belief  that  he  should  find  so  much 
waiting  for  him  in  that  unsounded  world,  his  determina 
tion,  above  all,  to  acquit  himself  truthfully  and  bravely  — 
all  these  made  him,  to  my  mind,  ever  an  object  of  more 
inspiring  and  romantic  interest. 

He  seemed,  somehow,  to  have  divested  himself  entirely 
of  the  old,  heedless  irresolution.  His  speech  expressed 
little  of  doubt  or  hesitancy.  It  was  full  of  a  bold,  bright 
affirmation ;  and  his  step,  in  these  days,  had  none  of  the 
ordinary  slow,  smiling,  philosophical  Wallencamp  shuffle. 
He  brought  to  my  weariness  and  dejection,  such  an  at- 


240  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

mosphere  of  vigorous,  tireless  life  ;  he  was  so  cor  fident, 
helpful,  unselfish ;  I  was  so  faithless  and  dishe  irtened 
a  burden-bearer,  that  I  grew  almost  unconsciously  to 
find  for  myself  a  certain  rest  in  his  strength,  which,  what 
ever  high  and  heroic  qualities  it  may  have  lacked,  devel 
oped,  at  least,  rare  resources  of  patience,  constancy,  and 
forbearance. 

He  did  not  say.  "You  have  changed  your  mind; 
you  will  wait  for  me,  teacher,  till  I  come  back  from  over 
the  seas?"  but  his  eyes  were  eloquent.  What  if  1  was 
moved,  I  had  grown  so  weak,  to  answer  their  ques 
tion,  at  last,  with  a  half-involuntary  admission  in  my 
own — 

Ah,  no  !  I  assured  myself  that  my  attitude  towards 
the  Cradlebow  was  sisterly — sisterly,  merely — although 
I  might  have  reflected  that  the  yearnings  of  that  amiable 
affection  had  never,  hitherto,  in  the  ordinary  walks  of  life, 
constrained  me  to  hem  so  many  as  a  dozen  pocket-hand 
kerchiefs  for  my  brothers,  which  irksome  task  I  cheerfully 
performed  as  a  surprise  for  the  sailor  boy,  not  to  speak  of 
a  pair  of  scarlet  hose  which  I  had  already  begun  to  knit, 
under  Grandma's  tuition. 

And  now  the  life  in  Wallencamp  seemed  never  like 
real  life  to  me,  even  in  the  broadest  daylight.  It  was 
like  a  dream  —  the  sweet,  warm,  brightening  of  the  land 
scape  ;  the  vines  growing  over  the  low,  brown  houses ; 
the  lazy,  summer  voices  in  the  air ;  the  skies,  too,  were  a 
dream  —  and  Benney,  with  his  ideally  beautiful  face  and 
his  quaintness  and  ardor  and  umvorldliness,  was  a  part 
of  the  dream.  I  knew  that  when  he  went  away,  I  should 
follow  him  long  in  my  thoughts,  and  wonder  much  con 
cerning  him ;  that  at  home  again  with  my  own  people, 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  241 

in  gayer,  different  scenes,  I  should  never  hear  the  wind 
blowing  up  strong  at  night,  or  see  the  winter  settling 
dpwn  gloomily,  or  watch  the  opening  of  another  spring 
time,  without  following  him  afar  and  wondering,  with  a 
vague,  sorrowful,  tender  regret,  what  chance  was  befalling 
him  in  the  world. 

Then  an  incident  occurred  which  changed,  not  me, 
perhaps,  but  the  complexion  of  my  dream. 

One  afternoon,  at  low  tide,  I  wandered  down  to  the 
beach  and  ensconced  myself  comfortably,  with  book  and 
shawl,  on  the  roof  of  Steeple  Rock.  The  rock  was  an 
old  acquaintance  of  mine,  by  this  time. 

There  was  a  group  of  children  playing,  a  little  farther 
down  the  beach.  My  eyes  turned  ever  to  them  from  the 
written  page,  following  them  with  a  languid  pleasure,  as 
they  revelled  in  the  sand  at  the  water's  edge  with  their 
bare,  brown  feet  and  legs.  I  had  a  sense  of  safety,  too, 
in  their  proximity.  I  knew  that  they  generally  returned 
home  passing  by  the  place  where  I  was. 

It  was  warm  on  the  rock.  I  was  very  tired.  As  I 
lay  there,  I  became  only  conscious,  at  length,  that  my 
book  was  slipping  out  of  my  hand,  and  down  the  shelving 
side  of  the  rock,  and  I  was  too  listless  to  attempt  to  re 
claim  it.  I  heard  a  little,  dull  thud  on  the  ground  below, 
and  a  faint  flutter  of  leaves  —  and  the  long,  white  beach, 
the  ragged  cliffs,  the  laughing  children,  had  faded  from 
my  sight. 

Then  I  dreamed,  indeed,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the 
word ;  I  was  back  again  in  Newtown,  in  my  own  home, 
in  my  own  white  bed,  and  I  was  very  glad,  looking  at  the 
pictures  on  the  wall,  and  out  on  the  familiar  hills.  I 
was  glad  to  hear  my  sister  playing  for  me  down  stairs, 


242  CAPE    COD    POLKS. 

only  it  was  the  same  tune  always,  and  I  wished  that  sha 
would  play  more  softly. 

And  the  pillow  was  hard,  but  I  did  not  mind  that  so 
much,  for  my  mother  stood  over  me,  looking  very  sweet 
and  grave,  and  she  said :  "  Why  did  n't  you  tell  us  that 
the  pillow  was  hard  ?  " 

My  father  was  there,  too,  and  repeated  the  same  ques 
tion,  and  my  brothers, —  they  all  kept  saying:  "Why 
did  n't  you  tell  us  that  the  pillow  was  hard  ?  "  and  seemed 
to  be  pitying  me  and  admiring  me  at  the  same  time 
until  John  Cable  came  in,  friend  of  the  old  Ncwtown 
days,  and  his  face  was  hard  and  stern. 

"Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  the  pillow  was  hard?"  he 
said :  "  Now,  I  can't  wake  you  !  Don't  you  see,  I  can't 
wake  you,  now?"  and  he  shook  his  head  and  would 
not  look  at  me.  So  they  took  him  out  of  the  room,  and 
went  on  pitying  and  admiring  me,  but  my  sister  kept 
playing  louder  and  louder,  and  it  troubled  me  so  that  I 
could  not  rest.  Then  I  heard  a  voice,  that  was  not 
in  my  dream,  calling  to  me  in  a  sharp,  clear,  cheering 
tone,  "  Teacher  !  Teacher  ! "  and  I  looked  up  to  see 
Benney  coming  towards  me  in  a  boat,  his  face  aglow 
with  excitement. 

This  first  —  before  I  realized  that  I  had  fallen  asleep 
on  the  rock,  and  that  what  I  had  dreamed  was  my  sister, 
playing,  was  the  sound  of  the  tide  coming  in,  and  that  I 
was  already  sprinkled  from  head  to  foot  with  the  spray. 
The  Cradlebow  continued  calling  to  me  cheerily,  and 
would  not  give  me  time  to  consider  the  terrors  of  the  sit 
uation  then,  nor  afterwards,  when  I  strove,  in  my  half- 
stunned  condition  of  mind,  to  weigh  and  appreciate  the 
peril  from  which  I  had  been  rescued. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  143 

The  children  had  wandered  a  mile  or  more  along  the 
beach  and  had  gone  home  by  another  road.  It  was  not 
yet  dark.  No  alarm  had  been  occasioned  in  Wallen- 
camp  as  to  my  absence,  but  the  Cradlebow,  knowing 
that  I  had  gone  in  the  direction  of  the  beach,  had  been 
moved  to  search  for  me,  and  had  discovered  me  on  the 
rock,  where,  in  a  few  moments  more,  I  should  have 
waked  to  find  myself  at  the  mercy  of  the  waves. 

My  deliverer  laughed  reassuringly,  sending  the  boat 
leaping  upon  the  shore,  holding  out  his  hand  to  me,  as 
though  this  were  merely  an  every-day  occurrence,  the 
close  of  some  ordinary  excursion,  but,  to  me,  life  had 
suddenly  grown  significant. 

The  strong  warm  hand  which  clasped  mine,  weak  and 
trembling,  as  I  stepped  from  the  boat,  I  must  recognize 
henceforth,  I  knew,  as  the  link  between  me  and  the 
living  world. 

For  several  days  afterwards,  I  considered  the  matter  of 
my  relation  to  the  Cradlebow  in  a  new  and  serious  light, 
especially  in  the  light  of  present  gratitude,  with  a  sense  of 
life-long  obligation,  but  the  Cradlebow  was  too  generous 
and  noble  to  recognize  the  obligation,  or  take  advantage 
of  the  gratitude.  He  loved  me,  I  knew.  He  had 
watched  for  me.  He  had  saved  my  life.  He  should 
know,  I  resolved,  that  if  he  wished  it  still,  I  would  wait 
for  him. 

And  the  idea  was  not  foreign  to  my  heart,  but  it 
grew,  at  last,  too  light  of  wing,  and  disposed  to  take  up 
permanent  abode  in  the  realm  of  fancy.  A  poor,  hand 
some  young  lover,  seeking  his  fortune  at  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  and  the  future  — ah,  it  did  send  a  little  stab  to  my 
conscience,  to  think  that  the  uncertainty  of  that  lover's 


S44  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

future  should  so  have  heightened,  to  my  mind,  the 
romance  of  the  picture.  However,  meeting  him  in  the 
lane  one  evening,  as  I  was  returning  from  one  of  my 
parochial  calls  —  it  was  just  at  dusk,  I  remember,  and  we 
stood  under  the  balm-of-Gilead  tree,  in  front  of  Emily's 
gate  —  I  said  very  gravely  and  with  none  of  that  em 
barrassment  which  the  occasion  might  seem  to  have 
warranted : 

"  Benney,  although  I  seem  to  myself  much  older  than 
you,  we  are  really,  I  suppose,  of  about  the  same  age.  I 
have  known  very  happy  attachments  where  inconsistencies 
of  birth,  habit,  education  were  far  greater,  perhaps,  than 
with  us.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that,  if  you  still 
desire  it,  I  will  wait  for  you." 

"Wait  for  me,  teacher!"  exclaimed  the  Cradlebow, 
opening  his  eyes  with  a  solemn,  wide  surprise,  "  Why,  of 
course  ! " 

"  Why,  of  course  ?  "  I  questioned  faintly,  not  knowing 
whether  to  smile  at  being  thus  abruptly  disarmed,  or  to 
feel  the  least  little  bit  piqued  at  the  youth's  unconscious 
audacity. 

"What  else  should  two  people  do  who  love  each 
other?"  There  was  nothing  either  of  doubt  or  arraign 
ment  in  the  Cradlebow 's  serious  eyes.  "Besides," 
he  continued,  "I've  known  it  all  along.  See  here, 
teacher  ! "  and  he  took  from  his  pocket,  and  carefully  un 
folded,  a  sheet  of  paper,  against  the  background  of  which 
there  lay  revealed  a  dainty  star  fish,  most  curiously  twisted 
about  with  some  rare  and  beautiful  sea  vine. 

"  You  wont  find  that  vine  washed  up  on  this  beach 
every  day,"  he  said,  eagerly.  "  When  I  showed  it  to 
Granny  — '  If  Heaven  itself  had  spoken,  boy/  says  she, 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  245 

'  I  should  be  no  surer  it  was  a  fair  voyage  waiting  you  than 
I  be  now,'  though  I  was  thinking  of  something  besides 
the  voyage,  teacher,  but  it's  all  the  same,  it  means  good 
luck  ;  and  would  n't  you  like  to  keep  it  for  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  I  answered,  laughingly  refusing  the  delicate 
talisman.  "  I  should  blast  its  good  intentions.  I  should 
stifle  it  with  my  cold  unbelief." 

The  Cradlebow  tenderly  replaced  his  treasure,  and 
laughed  with  me  good  naturedly. 

"It  isn't  your  fault,  teacher,"  said  he,  "that  you 
were  n't  better  brought  up.  If  you  'd  always  lived  with 
our  people,  down  here,  you  'd  be  more  believing." 

At  all  events,  my  severe  and  protracted  mental  exer 
tions  had  proved  quite  unnecessary,  I  thought,  although 
after  this  there  was,  in  some  respects,  a  tacitly  admitted 
change  in  our  converse  with  each  other.  A  sort  of  vague 
venturesome  house  building  for  the  future,  in  which  the 
Cradlebow  seemed  to  wish  that  I  would  oftener  show  an 
interest  in  the  feminine  details  within  doors,  while  I 
had  a  grand  and  absorbing  predilection  for  constructing 
imaginary  grades  and  turrets  and  mediaeval  door-posts, 
receiving  any  thoughtful  suggestions  as  to  tin  kettles  and 
pantry  shelves  with  gracious  and  smiling  forbearance. 

The  Cradlebow  seemed  particularly  pleased,  when 
he  came  into  the  Ark  of  an  evening,  if  I  chanced  to  be 
knitting  on  the  scarlet  stockings.  I  did  have  a  new  and 
not  unpleasant  sense  of  housewifely  dignity  while  engaged 
at  this  task,  and  undoubtedly  assumed  an  air  calculated  to 
serve  as  an  impressive  exponent  to  my  emotion.  The 
poor  scarlet  stockings  lengthened,  meanwhile,  but  it  was  a 
disheartening  and  almost  imperceptible  growth.  Where 
the  article  should  have  been  most  voluminous,  at  the  calf 


246  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

of  the  leg,  it  grew,  in  spite  of  me,  more  alarmingly  narrow 
at  every  round.  This  was  after  I  had  graduated  from 
under  Grandma  Spicer's  tuition,  and  assumed  my  own 
responsibility  in  the  matter,  so  that  I  disdained  to  appeal 
to  her  for  assistance  hi  the  dilemma,  but  thoughtfully 
devised  means  of  my  own  for  widening  the  stocking. 

"  I  '11  tell  ye  what  it  is,  teacher,"  said  Grandpa,  who 
had  been  regarding  me  with  that  wild  look  which  some 
times  visited  the  old  man's  face  when  a  problem  seemed 
well  nigh  insoluble,  "  I  'm  afeerd,  teacher,  I'  m  afeerd 
that  that  ere  stockin'  ain't  a  goin'  to  fit  nobody  1  I  'U 
tell  ye  what  it  makes  me  think  on.  It  make  me  think 
o'  one  o'  these  'ere  accordians  that  ye  open  and  shet 
I  'm  afeerd,  teacher,  that  it  ain't  a  go'n'  to  fit !  " 

"Thar!  'sh  1  'sh  !  pa,"  said  Grandma,  with  all  the 
unction  of  holy  disapproval  j  but,  for  once,  my  ever  dear 
friend  and  champion  was  compelled  to  turn  her  back 
upon  the  scene. 

In  this  position,  she  exclaimed  in  a  low,  broken  tone  of 
voice,  "  There  may  be  legs,  pa,  as  we  don't  know  on  I " 

Grandpa  was  curiously  aroused. 

"  I  tell  ye,  I  Ve  traveled  to  the  four  quarters  of  the 
'arth,  ma,"  said  he,  "  and  set  eyes  on  the  tarnalest  critters 
under  God's  canopy,  but  I  never  see  anybody  yit  that 
'ud  fit  into  that  'ere.  Besides,"  he  added,  knowingly, 
in  a  milder  tone,  "I  reckin  that  'ere  stockin's  meant 
for  somebody  nearer  hum,  and  a  pretty  straight-legged 
fellow,  too." 

I  was  enabled  to  judge  something  still  farther  of  the 
speculations  waking  in  the  Cradlebow  brain,  when, 
having  to  keep  Henry  G.  after  school,  one  night,  as 
a  means  of  discipline,  he  bawled  out : 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  J47 

"Ye  don't  keep  Simmy  B.  after  school  no  more  I  and 
why  not?"  continued  the  aggrieved  infant,  at  the  same 
time  framing  for  himself  an  answer  of  malicious 
significance:  — "Oh,  cause  he's  Ben  Cradlebow's 
brother  1" 

Social  converse  was  at  its  high  tide,  now,  inWallen- 
camp  among  the  birds  in  the  trees  and  the  fowls  in  the 
door-yards,  and  quite  as  naturally  and  harmlessly  so,  for 
the  most  part,  I  think,  among  the  beings  of  a  superior 
order.  They  had  little  other  recreation. 

The  bonfire  had  marked  the  close  of  the  gay  epoch  in 
Wallcncamp.  It  was  too  warm  now,  for  the  livelier 
recreations  of  the  winter.  Religious  interest,  especially, 
was  at  a  low  ebb.  At  the  evening  prayer  meetings,  the 
number  of  worshippers  appeared  but  as  a  handful 
compared  with  the  number  of  the  unconcerned  who  lin 
gered  outside  in  the  pleasant  moonlight.  t  Conspicuous 
among  these  latter,  replacing  the  fervid  debates  of  the 
winter  with  a  calm  philosophy  befitting  a  warmer  season, 
were  Captain  Sartell  and  Bachelor  Rae. 

The  old  songs  held  the  same  charm  for  them  all,  how 
ever.  They  sang  them  ever  with  pathos  in  their  voices 
and  tears  in  their  eyes. 

The  little  unpremeditated  chats  by  gate  and  road-side, 
the  neighborly  "  droppings-in,"  grew  more  and  more 
frequent. 

But  when  poor  Ethel  was  taken  up  on  the  tide  of 
social  wonder  and  debate,  and  I  heard  whisperings  con 
cerning  her  and  knew  that  an  evil  suspicion  had  taken 
hold  of  the  mind  of  the  little  community  and  when  finally, 
Emily  said  to  me,  "  I  guess  you  done  about  right  shirking 
off  Eth,  teacher.  I  guess  she  ain't  no  better  than  she 


248 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 


ought  to  be,"  in  spite  of  what  I  felt  to  be  my  own 
unblemished  conscience  in  the  matter  and  the  justice 
of  the  retribution  which  was  overtaking  Ethel,  I  went 
often  to  my  little  room  and  cried  bitterly  for  her,  as  well 
as  for  myself 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ELIOT  TURNER  IN  THE  SCHOOL-ROOM. 

[RS.  Ithamer  Spicer  grew  kind.  At  first,  es 
pecially  while  the  fisherman  was  in  Wallencamp, 
her  demeanor  towards  me  had  been  marked 
by  a  decided  touch  of  coldness  and  mistrust.  She  sus 
pected  me,  I  thought,  of  trifling  with  the  Cradlebow ; 
now,  she  invariably  deferred  to  me  as  a  person  worthy  of 
all  honor  and  consideration  —  of  congratulation  even,  in 
an  eminent  degree. 

She  assumed  to  be  on  the  most  frank  and  confiding 
terms  with  me.  She  found  a  thousand  little  ways  for 
promoting  my  physical  comfort  that  had  never  occurred  to 
her  before. 

So  I  was  the  more  surprised,  when  after  school,  one 
Friday  afternoon,  as  I  was  sitting  in  my  room,  this  same 
Abagail  suddenly  appeared  before  me  with  her  eyes 
glittering,  her  lips  compressed,  and  her  complexion  of 
that  positive  green  hue  which  it  always  wore  when  she  was 
in  a  high  passion. 

"  There  's  a  gentleman  down  stairs,  waiting  to  see  you, 
teacher,"  she  said,  with  a  peculiarly  dark  inflection  on  the 


250  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

word  gentleman.  "  Oh,  he  's  got  on  an  awful  interesting 
look  !  "  snapped  out  Abagail,  with  a  spiteful  little  laugh, 
"  and  a  suit  of  light  clothes,  and  a  new  spring  overcoat, 
and  he  looked  at  me  as  though  I  was  a  pane  of  window 
glass,  and  he  says,  '  Oh  —  ah  —  yes  —  Is  Miss  Hunger- 
ford  in  ?  '  I  wonder  if  he  's  come  back  to  make  his  fare 
well  calls — "  with  another  unpleasant  laugh.  "  One  thing 
I  can  tell  him,  he  'd  better  steer  clear  of  George  Olver  !  " 

Was  ever  a  zealous  young  devotee,  I  pondered,  more 
perplexed  ! 

"  Come  this  way,  please,"  I  said;  holding  out  my  hand 
to  Abagail ,  and  leaning  back  in  my  chair  with  unaffected 
weariness,  at  least,  "  Is  Mr.  Turner  down  stairs  ?  " 

They  call  him  that,  I  believe,"  said  Abagail,  sen- 
tentiously,  "  things  don't  always  get  their  right  names 
hi  this  world." 

"Well,  you  may  tell  him,"  I  said,  "that  I  can't  see 
him," 

Abagail 's  countenance  changed  wonderfully  in  an 
instant.  She  gave  me  a  bright  look,  and  without  waiting 
for  another  word,  ran  down  the  stairs. 

When  she  came  back,  her  tongue  ran  on  glibly : 

"  I  told  him,"  said  she,  "  that  you  could  n't  see  him, 
and  he  kept  on  in  that  window-glass  way  of  looking,  and 
his  head  as  high  as  ever,  and  he  took  his  hat  and  *  I  'm 
very  sorry,'  he  says,  'that  Miss  Hungerford  is  indisposed, 
and  I  hope  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  her 
this  evening.' 

"He  said  he  came  to-day,  and  was  going  away  to 
morrow  morning,  and  he  had  something  of  importance 
to  communicate,  and  I  knew  he  expected  I  'd  go  up  and 
see  you  again  about  it,  but  I  didn't  So  he  said  he  'd 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  251 

call  again  this  evening  or  to-morrow  morning,  just  which 
'd  be  most  agreeable,  and  expected  I  'd  budge  then,  sure, 
but  I  didn't  show  any  signs  of  it ;  and  I  told  him  rightly, 
I  guessed  one  time  would  be  about  as  agreeable  as  an 
other;  and  I  suppose  he  thought  he  wouldn't  show  mad 
before  such  common  bred  folks.  He  smiled  that  window- 
glass  looking  smile  of  his,  and  says,  'Ah,  thank  you ; 
now  I  won't  detain  you  any  longer,  Mrs.  Spicer ; '  and 
out  he  went. 

"I  suppose  he's  come  down  to  smooth  everything 
over,  and  have  it  hushed  up  with  Eth  and  her  folks. 
Well,  money  '11  do  a  good  deal  for  a  man,  but  it  would  n't 
stand  him  much  if  he  got  into  George  Giver's  hands. 
However,  teacher,"  concluded  Abagail,  in  a  sprightly 
tone,  "give  the  Devil  his  due.  It's  better 'n  as  if  he'd 
run  off  and  never  showed  his  head  again ;  and  I  don't 
suppose  he  '11  get  much  satisfaction  out  of  you,  if  you  do 
see  him,  teacher.  It 's  better  to  trust  honest  folks  than 
rogues,  and  nobody  knows  that  better  than  the  rogues 
themselves." 

I  knew  that  this  last  clause  was  not  designed  as  a  per 
sonal  thrust  by  Abagail,  yet  I  could  not  help  musing  a 
little  over  it,  smilingly,  after  she  had  gone.  The  fiction, 
of  which  I  was  living  a  part,  in  .Wallencamp,  was  taking 
on,  it  seemed  to  me,  a  tinge  even  of  the  tragic — perplex 
ities  were  deepening.  I  was  becoming,  more  than  ever, 
the  suffering  though  exalted  heroine  of  a  romance. 

I  rose,  and  dressed  myself  before  the  glass,  I  remem 
ber,  with  particular  care.  I  did  not  know  why  I  should 
dread  or  avoid  seeing  the  fisherman  in  the  evening,  since 
the  part  I  had  to  sustain  in  the  interview  was  so  distinctly 
calm,  dispassionate  and  spiritually  remote.  At  the  same 


253  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

time,  I  wished  that  my  cheeks  had  not  grown  so  pale  and 
my  eyes  so  dark-rimmed  and  hollow.  They  bespoke 
the  interesting  part  I  had  to  play  in  the  world's  tragedy, 
but  were  not,  otherwise,  so  becoming  as  I  could  have 
wished. 

Earlier,  the  fisherman  had  sent  me  books  from  Provi 
dence.  I  would  rather,  I  thought,  that  he  should  take 
them  back  again.  I  remembered  that  I  had  left  one  of 
them  in  my  desk  at  the  school-house,  and  put  on  my  hat 
to  go  after  it. 

"  Going  out  to  spend  the  evening,  teacher?  "  said  Ab- 
agail,  as  I  opened  the  door  of  the  Ark,  giving  me  at  the 
same  time  a  gay  and  knowing  look. 

'•  No,"  I  said,  gravely  tolerant  of  the  little  woman's 
surveillance,  "  I  'm  only  going  to  the  school-house  for  a 
book  that  I  want.  I  shall  be  back  in  a  few  moments." 

It  was  hardly  dusk  then. 

Aunt  Patty,  as  usual  after  school  on  Friday,  had  swept 
the  room  and  put  down  the  dark  and  dingy  paper  cur 
tains. 

I  opened  the  door  and  stood  an  instant  looking  into 
the  gloom  before  entering.  Then  I  saw  that  there  was 
some  one  sitting  in  my  chair — a  man  with  his  head  bent 
forward  and  buried  in  his  arms,  which  were  folded  on  the 
desk. 

It  was  Mr.  Turner,  and  before  I  had  time  to  retreat, 
he  lifted  his  head  and  saw  me  standing  in  the  door. 

I  had  expected  that  the  first  revelation  of  that  glance 
would  contain  something  of  grief,  wretchedness,  remorse. 
The  fisherman's  countenance  wore  a  shadow  of  annoy 
ance,  but  it  was  expressive,  above  all,  of  a  childish  petul 
ance  and  irritation. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  253 

u  Oh ! "  he  exclaimed,  speaking  with  the  utmost  ab 
ruptness,  and  rising  from  the  chair,  "  if  you  had  only  left 
this  place  at  the  end  of  the  first  term,  it  would  have 
saved  the  whole  of  this  abominable  misadventure  !  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  understand  you,"  I  said,  freezing  now, 
in  sober  earnest. 

"  Because  in  your  eyes  only,  it  is  a  misadventure, "  he 
continued  rapidly,  with  growing  excitement.  "  You 
came  to  this  miserable  hole  —  this  Wallencamp  —  re 
solved  to  view  everything  in  a  new  light  —  the  light  of 
unselfish  devotion  to  great  ends,  and  exalted  aspiration, 
and  ideal  perfection,  and  all  that.  Well,  how  has  the 
wretched,  giggling,  conniving  little  community  shown  out 
in  that  light  ?  I  suppose  there 's  one  —  that  larking 
Cradlebow  — who  has  stood  the  test  and  come  out 
creditably,  by  reason  of  an  uncommonly  artistic  shock  of 
hair  and  a  Raphaelite  countenance.  As  for  me,  taken 
in  the  ordinary  sense,  I  'm  no  worse  than  a  thousand 
others,  but  I  say  that  it  was  a  decidedly  unfortunate  light 
to  put  me  in  '  It  was  a  decidedly  unfair  light !  " 

"I  have  no  wish  to  judge  you  in  any  light,"  I  said,  and 
explaining  briefly  my  errand  to  the  school-house,  I  ex 
pressed  regret  at  having  interrupted  the  fisherman's 
meditations,  and  turned  to  go. 

"  Miss  Hungerford ! "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  gesture 
of  whimsical  force  and  impatience,  "  it 's  my  last  chance 
for  an  explanation.  Don't,  for  God's  sake,  cut  it  short 
at  this  point.  You  might  know — you  might  know,  that 
I  'm  not  a  bad  fellow  at  heart.  But  you  will  never  see 
the  best  side  of  me  — there's  fate  in  it.  I  never  wanted 
to  seem  specially  contrite  but  I  must  set  myself  jumping 
like  a  Jack-in-the-box  for  your  infernally  cold  amusement  1 


254  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

I  had  an  explanation  at  my  tongue's  end.  D — n  it  1  I 
don't  remember  a  word  of  it." 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  necessary,"  I  said. 

"  Oh,  no  ! "  he  continued  in  a  deeply  aggrieved,  almost 
a  whining  tone  ;  "  nothing's  necessary  that  would  set  me 
out  in  a  little  better  shape  !  Anything  '11  do  for  these 
grovelling  Wallencamp,  but  just  as  soon  as  it  comes  to 
me,  all  the  extenuating  circumstances  of  my  life  —  that  I 
was  left  so  early  orphaned,  sisterless,  brotherless,  my 
nearest  of  kin  a  wicked,  carousing  old  uncle ;  taken  to 
see  the  world  here,  and  to  see  the  world  there ;  home 
less,  if  ever  one  was  homeless  ;  never  trained  to  any  cor 
rect  way  of  thinking,  or  settled  manner  of  life,  but  just 
to  spend  my  money  and  aim  at  enjoying  myself — they 
all  amount  to  nothing  in  my  case. 

"  Well,  I  used  to  come  to  Wallencamp  just  for  that 
same  purpose  — to  have  a  good  time ;  it  was  such  a  jolly, 
wild  place  to  let  the  Old  Nick  loose  in ;  and  now  it  seems 
that 's  to  be  taken  for  a  man's  natural  level,  and  the  best 
that  he's  capable  of!  Then  I  met  you.  You  would 
voluntarily  give  up  ease  and  luxury,  for  a  time,  for  the 
sake  of  an  abstract  idea  —  whether  misguided  or  not,  I 
will  not  say,  the  fact  remains  the  same — and  I  swear  it 
was  a  new  revelation  to  me.  It  was  strange  and  perverse 
and  it  was  deuced  taking  !  Then  I  tried  to  get  you  to 
include  me  among  the  objects  of  your  mission,  to  accept 
me  as  a  candidate  for  temporal  leniency  and  final  salva 
tion,  and  you  wouldn't.  It's  only  the  happy,  ragged, 
unconscious  heathen  that  are  looked  out  for  in  this 
world ;  the  real  ones  don't  get  any  sympathy." 

The  fisherman  paused. 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  give  you  the  first  lesson  in  the 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  255 

code  of  salvation,"  I  said  —  "that  the  fate  of  souls  is 
not  left  to  human  hands." 

"  Oh,  I  Ve  heard  that  formula  somewhere  before  !  "  ex 
claimed  the  fisherman  impatiently,  with  a  little  sneer  in 
his  laugh.  "  Why  don't  you  tell  me  that  God  will  help 
me?  Perhaps  you  will  even  remember  me  in  your 
prayers,  sometime." 

At  those  last  words  an  unbearable  pang  of  self-con 
viction  and  remorse  shot  through  my  heart.  I,  who  had 
not  felt  greatly  the  need  of  any  supernatural  aid, 
but  rather  that  I  was  able  to  manage  my  own  affairs  with 
becoming  discretion  —  of  what  saving  power  and  grace 
could  I  speak  to  one  who  was  weak  enough  to  fall,  and  for 
whom  there  was  no  help  in  himself?  In  the  dark  school 
room  I  involuntarily  lifted  my  hands  to  my  face.  When 
I  heard  the  fisherman's  voice  again,  he  had  come  a  step 
or  two  nearer  to  me  down  the  aisle. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  what  I  was  thinking  about  when  you 
came  in,"  he  said,  in  an  altered  tone.  "Rather,  how 
I  was  allowing  my  imagination  to  run  away  with  itself,  for 
my  own  particular  delectation.  I  was  imagining,  when 
you  opened  the  door  and  stood  revealed  there  in  the 
light,  how  you  might  come  to  me,  indeed,  as  the  angel  of 
some  better  life  and  hope,  offering  me  a  forgiveness 
as  full  as  it  was  unmerited." 

"  It  is  not  I  who  have  to  forgive  you,"  I  repeated. 

"  It  is  you,  if  any  one,"  replied  the  fisherman,  quickly. 
"I  tell  you,  you  feel  that  girl  Ethel's  fault  ten  times 
more  deeply  than  she  feels  it  for  herself.  You  should 
never  have  come  to  this  place.  It  was  deucedly  odd 
and  entertaining,  but  it  was  a  step  in  the  wrong  di 
rection.  You  put  yourself  in  the  place  of  these  people 


236  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

and  translate  all  their  possible  moods  and  tenses  accord 
ing  to  your  own.  It's  a  mistake.  That  girl,  Ethel, 
would  stare  in  perfect  bewilderment  if  she  could  know  of 
some  of  the  thoughts  and  emotions  you  doubtless  attribute 
to  her.  She  might  even  laugh  at  you  for  your  pains." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you,"  I  said,  not  angrily  nor  re 
sentfully,  as  might  have  been  earlier  in  our  acquaint 
ance,  but  with  a  painful,  slow  positiveness.  "  Perhaps 
I  was  wrong  in  assuming  the  place  I  did  in  Wallencamp, 
but  it  was  not  in  the  way  you  think.  I  don't  know  —  I 
can't  see  the  way  myself,  clearly  —  always,  but  I  believe 
that  what  you  have  said  is  utterly  false  !  " 

"At   least,"    continued    the    fisherman,   in    the    old 
gay  frivolous  tone,  which  I  heard  now  for  the  first  time 
during  this  conversation,  "  I  can  make  her  tenfold  and 
abundant  reparation  —  ah,  you  don't  know — I  say  you 
don't  understand  these  people.     It 's  a  disagreeable  sub 
ject  ;  let  it  go  !      But  I  'm  very  rich,  you  know,"  with  an 
easy  laugh,  and  the  air  of  a  man  only  conscious  at  last,  of 
his  good   worldly  fortune,  and   the  exquisite   fit  of  his 
clothes.     "  Oh,   I  've  got  no  end  of  money.     After  all, 
that's   the  chief  thing  in  this  world.     If  a  fellow's  or 
dinarily   clever  and   good    natured,   with   a   good   rep 
utation    in    town,    what's  a  little  row   in   the   suburban 
districts  !     It's  an  awfully  insignificant  affair,  anyway,  it 
seems  to  me.     We  may  as  well  talk  sense,  and  the  plainer 
the  better.     People  don't  employ  lens  for  short  sighted- 
ness  in  that  particular  —  common  sense,  I  mean.     You 
walk  without  seeing,  Miss  Hungerford,  and  you  're  bound 
to  get  infernally  cheated,  in  some  shape.     Why  not  me, 
I  say,  as  well  as  another  ?  " 
Still,  the  fisherman's  words  roused  no  bitterness  in  me. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  257 

• 

His  hardened  recklessness  of  speech  served  rather  to 
strengthen  me  in  the  part  I  had  to  play  of  the  un 
approachably  sublime. 

"  I  can  not  consider  that  question,"  I  said,  with 
my  hand  on  the  door. 

He  swept  my  face  with  a  keen  glance  that  had  lost 
none  of  its  derisive  quality. 

"  So  it 's  true,  then  !  "  he  said.  "  The  ultimatum  has 
been  reached,  at  last,  in  the  possessor  of  a  pretty  face 
and  a  broken  riddle  !  and  dreams  for  the  restoration  of 
the  race,  are  to  end  in  a  broken-down  hovel  by  the 
sea,  in  darning  the  Cradlebow  's  socks,  and  dressing  the 
clams  for  dinner,  while  the  bucolic  George  Olver  and 
the  versatile  Noah,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  awkward, 
moon-gazing  crew,  take  turns  in  sitting  on  the  door  step, 
and  dilating  on  the  weather  !  ravishing  idyl !  but  it  lacks 
substantiality.  It  lacks  seriousness." 

I  heard  that  mocking  laugh  again  without  emotion, 
except  it  might  be  for  a  faint,  far  off  echo  in  my  breast  of 
the  fisherman's  own  scorn.  Above  all,  I  was  weary,  and 
willing  to  make  my  escape. 

"  We  can  not  help  each  other  by  standing  here  talk 
ing,"  I  said,  and  added  a  "good  bye." 

It  was  the  last  time,  probably,  that  I  should  see  the 
fisherman's  face ;  but  he  refused  the  valediction  with 
a  toss  of  the  head. 

"  Oh,  no  ! "  he  said,  "  it  is  n't  time  for  my  obsequies.  I 
shall  return  to  town  for  a  few  days  or  weeks  only; 
this  detestable  place  has  always  thrown  a  spell  over  me. 
I  can't  rid  myself  of  it.  Like  the  natives  of  Wallencamp, 
I  always  drift  back  to  it  again." 

It  was  growing  dark.     I  found  Abagail  waiting  for  me 


258 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 


in  the  lane.  Somewhat  piqued  at  the  persistency  of  the 
little  woman's  ministrations,  I  hiformed  her  briefly,  that  I 
had  found  the  fisherman  in  the  school-house,  and  had 
been  conversing  with  him  there ;  but  she  put  her  hand  in 
my  arm  with  an  air  of  unshaken  confidence. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

GEORGE  OLVER'S  LOVE  FOR  ETHEL. 

'D  like  to  see   you    alone    a  few  minutes 
teacher,  if  you  please." 

It  was  George  Olver  who  spoke,  in  his 
sturdy,  resolute  bass.  The  words  hardly  took  on  the 
form  of  a  suave  request;  they  were  uttered  in  too 
earnest,  grave,  and  intent  a  tone. 

I  had  dismissed  my  school  for  the  day.  The  roar  of 
the  young  lions  just  released  from  bondage  had  not  died 
away  when  George  Olver  entered  the  school-room,  closed 
the  door  behind  him,  and  stood  in  a  manly  and  self- 
reliant  attitude,  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

"  No  ma'am,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  some  gesture  of 
mine,  "I'll  be  much  obleeged  if  you '//  set  down  in  the 
chair." 

"There's  times,  teacher,"  he  then  went  on,  gravely 
and  steadily,  "  when  ordinary  friends,  like  you  and  me, 
meetin'  each  other  in  the  road,  or  in  a  neighbor's  house, 
maybe,  we  say  '  How  d'ye  do? '  or  'It's  a  pleasant  day/ 
or  the  like  o'  that,  and  all  well  and  good.  It 's  a  fair  un 
derstanding  and  enough  said  'twixt  you  and  me;  and 


260  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

then  agin,  there's  times  when  the  wind  blows  up  rough, 
as  ye  might  say,  and  oncommon  dark,  and  some  harm  a 
befallin'  of  us,  when  we  git  closter  together  and  more  a 
dependin'  on  each  other,  and  then  them  old  words  ain't 
o'  much  account  to  us,  but  to  speak  out  different  what 
need  be  without  fear  or  shame." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  much  impressed  by  George  Giver's 
manner.  He  was  held  somewhat  in  awe  among  the 
Wallencampers,  and  regarded  generally  as  a  "close- 
mouthed"  fellow. 

"I  hear,"  he  resumed,  "that  El'  Turner  has  been 
down  this  way  agin.  They  say  it  was  lucky  for  him  I 
wasn't  to  home  that  day  ;  maybe  so.  Ef  he'd  a  turned 
up  suddenly  in  my  path  —  I  can't  say — I  might  a 
trod  on  him.  I  never  done  anythin'  like  that  for  the 
fun  on 't.  I  'd  rather  go  round  one  any  time  than  step 
on't,  but  if  I'd  a  come  on  him  so  onexpected,  I  can't 
say  for  what  might  a  been  the  consequences.  Wall,  he 
comes  down  here,  and  he  goes  to  her  with  money  !  Her, 
that  ain't  used  to  all  the  devilish  ways  o'  the  world,  nor 
as  fine  clo's  as  some,  but  that's  got  a  lady's  heart  in  her, 
for  all  that,  and  she  told  him — I  know  just  how  she  said 
it,  in  that  quiet  way  she's  had  along  lately — that  it  was 
the  last  thing  he  could  do  to  hurt  her  —  but  he'd  made  a 
mistake  if  he  thought  she  could  take  that. 

"  So,  then,  as  I  Ve  heered,  he  went  to  her  father,  a 
fryin'  to  make  it  appear,  as  nigh  as  I  can  make  out,  that 
he  'd  got  suthin'  in  the  shape  of  a  conscience  that  he 
wanted  to  whiten  over  a  little  more  to  his  own  satisfac 
tion  afore  he  went  away. 

"  Wall,  Bede  and  his  daughter  used  to  be  called  about 
one  piece  for  temper,  though  I  don't  reckon  that  tern- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  261 

per 's  lackin'  allays  cause  it  don't  show.  There 's  them  as 
jest  keeps  the  steam  down  a  workin'  the  whole  machinery 
patient  and  stiddy ;  but  Bede,  he  's  allays  a  histin'  the 
cover,  and  lettin'  on't  out  in  one  general  bust,  ana  I 
reckon  that  was  what  he  did  when  he  was  a  talkin'  with 
the  fisherman  ;  he  histed  up  the  cover  and  let  off  a  good 
deal  of  onnecessary  steam,  but  he  come  to  the  right 
point  in  the'end ;  that  the  fisherman  had  made  a  mistake 
thar,  too,  and — as  near  as  I  can  make  out  —  this  El' 
Turner  was  kind  o'  took  back  and  disappointed.  He 
had  n't  calkilated  that  the  folks  down  here  had  any  sech 
feelin's  as  his  sort  o'  folks. 

"Thar  ain't  any  use  in  talkin'  about  him.  I  feel  hard 
thar,  I  confess,  but  that  can't  help  her  none,  now.  What 
I  want  is  to  help  her.  I  tell  ye,  teacher," — the  strong 
voice  trembled  slightly  —  "there's  been  times  when  I've 
felt  as  though  I  Ve  been  a  sinkin',  as  ye  might  say,  and  a 
wantin'  to  call  out  for  help  !  help  !  like  any  weak,  drown 
ing  fool,  instead  o'  swimmin'  above  it  strong,  and  helpin' 
them  as  was  weaker  than  me. 

"  No  shame  for  me  to  say,  teacher,  I  Ve  allays  had  it 
in  my  mind  that  Ethel'd  marry  me.  It  grew  up  with  me. 
I  never  thought  o'  no  other  girl  but  she.  Ye  see  she'd 
always  knowed  me,  and  it  was  more  like  a  brother,  she 
said.  She  had  n't  thought  o'  that.  So,  I  says,  I  '11  bide 
my  time  patient,  but  I  believed  she'd  turn  to  me. 

"When  El'  Turner  began  to  hang  around  there,  I 
didn't  feel  exactly  kindly  towards  him,  I  don't  pretend. 
The  folks,  they  tried  to  set  me  on.  It  'ud  a  been  mighty 
easy  to  a  gone  on  !  I  guess  there  ain't  nobody  as  knows 
us  two  'ud  deny  I  could  handle  four  o'  such  as  him,  but 
a  man  has  got  to  say,  fa'r  play  1  fa'r  play  !  and  not  put 


262  CAPS    COD    TOLXS. 

himself  in  other  folks'  light.  Thinks  I,  if  his  intentions 
are  all  squar  and  honorable  —  and  I  had  n't  no  reason, 
then,  to  say  they  wa'  n't  —  and  them  two  take  a  fancy  to 
each  other,  why,  it  ain't  no  more  than  nateral  1 

"  She  was  handsome  enough  for  a  queen,  and  he  had 
different  manners  from  us  fellows  down  here,  and  purtier 
ways  o'  talkin'  and  lookin'  at  a  girl,  as  though  if  she 
didn't  have  him,  it  was  goin'  to  knock  im  straight,  and 
she  'd  lived  with  such  different  folks,  it  made  it  vary  inter- 
estin* ;  that  was  nateral.  Thinks  I,  a  man  in  my  place 
had  ought  to  have  sense  enough  to  back  out  quiet. 

"  You  know  what  he  done,  teacher.  He  took  the  best, 
and  when  he  got  tired  on't,  he  threw  it  away," — the 
brawny  hand  at  George  Giver's  side  was  clinched  so  as 
to  appear  almost  colorless,  yet  there  was  little  discom 
posure  in  his  voice  —  "  but  cursin'  him  ain't  a  goin'  to 
help  us  now.  When  a  thing  that 's  allays  been  precious 
to  us  has  once  fell,  we  can't  never  make  it  quite  like  it 
was  afore,  but  we  can  keep  care  on 't  patient,  a  waitin' 
God  Almighty's  time  to  make  it  whole.  I  know  what 
folks  say.  I  know,  but  I  don't  keer.  She  ain't  no  less 
precious  to  me,  now,  than  she  was  afore,  only  it 's  more 
for  her,  now,  maybe,  and  less  for  myself.  And  she  sees, 
now.  She  does  keer  for  me,  now.  Ay,  I  know  what 
they  '11  say,  but  they  don't  know  that  girl  as  well  as  I  do, 
teacher.  They  ain't  nothin'  would  a  wrung  them  words 
from  her  ef  they  hadn't  a  be'n  true;  no,  not  ef  it  had 
been  savin'  her  life  to  say  'em.  She  does  keer,  now,  but 
she  won't  never  take  me  now,  she  says,  because  it  ud  be 
wrongin'  me,  and  I  might  a  knowed  what  she  'd  a  said, 
what  it  was  nateral  and  noble  for  her  to  say. 

"But,"  continued  George  Olver,  with  a  flash  of  magnifi- 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  S63 

cent  fire  in  his  eyes,  and  thrusting  his  arm  out  straight, 
"  what's  right  atween  me  and  my  God  need  n't  be  afeard 
o'  no  man's  face  !  I  want  to  take  that  girl  and  keer  for 
her,  and  keep  her  from  meddlin'  tongues.  Let  'em  say 
what  they  choose  to  me ;  they  must  be  keerful  what  they 
say  afore  her,  that 's  all. 

"  I  've  waited  a  good  while.  I  could  bide  my  time, 
but  not  now,  when  she 's  heart  broke  and  sufferin',  and 
nobody  ter  put  out  a  hand  to  help  her.  There 's  be'n  a 
look  on  her  face,  lately,  that  I  don't  like  to  see.  It's 
afore  my  eyes  all  the  time,  and  it  werries  me  night  and 
day — as  though  she  didn't  hold  herself  o*  no  account 
and  might  make  away  wi'  herself. 

"  Teacher,  you  Ve  got  a  woman's  heart,  and  you  can 
save  that  other  woman  !  It's  a  task  that  they  needn't 
nobody  be  ashamed  on,  for  the  Lord  Jesus  himself  set 
the  example.  I  guess  she  thinks  you  Ve  turned  agin  her, 
too,  but  I  knew  that  could  n't  be,  for  no  friend  'ud  leave 
another  when  they  was  perishin',  not  even  if  they  was 
more  to  fault  than  she  was ;  and  she  was  apt  to  mind  ye 
more  than  any  one.  I  thought  if  you'd  go  in  and  speak 
to  her  as  a  woman  could,  and  tell  her  she  'd  got  a  right  to 
hope,  and  tell  her  her  friends  would  not  forsake  her, 
least  of  all  would  it  be  likely  God  would  forsake  her,  and 
tell  her—" 

George  Olver  seemed  both  to  be  looking  at  me 
and  beyond  me  with  his  beautiful,  brave  eyes,  "  Tell  her 
thar's  somebody  that  don't  find  any  cause  to  be  sorry  for 
havin'  loved  her,  but  knows  how  she's  been  werrited, 
and  suffers  along  with  her,  and  'ud  be  more  glad  and 
content  than  of  anythin'  else  in  his  heart  this  minute,  to 
protect  her  and  keer  for  her  as  it 's  right  —  yis.  tell  her 


264  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

as  it 's  right  that  she  should  let  him  do,  and  if  she  asks 
from  whom  that  comes  " —  George  Olver  smiled  brightly, 
with  that  far-seeing  look  still  in  his  eyes  — "why,  it's 
no  secret  from  whom  it  comes.  Will  you  go,  teacher  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  I,  with  a  vague  sense  of  having  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  hitherto  unknown  world,  "  I  will  go." 

George  Olver  came  forward,  gave  my  hand  a  firm 
grasp,  and  then  turned  resolutely  and  walked  out. 

Left  to  myself  and  my  own  thoughts,  I  dreaded  more 
and  more  the  concession  there  would  seem  to  be  in  my 
seeking  Ethel  now,  for  the  poor  girl  could  hardly  be  ex 
pected,  I  thought,  to  appreciate  the  magnanimity  of  such 
an  act. 

I  deferred  going  to  see  her  until  evening,  and  even 
thought  of  writing  a  letter  instead  of  going  at  all,  signi 
fying  my  willingness  to  take  her  back  into  my  favor,  in  a 
limited  sort  of  way,  and  reinforcing  her  with  a  share  of 
that  counsel  and  advice  which  she  must  have  missed  so 
sadly  of  late,  but  I  was  conscious  of  the  fact  that  I 
should  not  thus  be  keeping  my  promise  to  George  Olver. 

After  supper,  the  singers  came  in  and  wailed  some 
peculiarly  touching  songs  about  rescuing  the  fallen  and 
the  erring.  As  Grandma  Spicer  was  preparing  to  go  on 
an  errand  of  mercy  down  the  lane,  I  joined  her,  and 
stopped  at  Bede  Alden's  door. 

Aunt  Patty,  Ethel's  mother,  appeared  in  answer  to  my 
knock.  Her  glances  had  fallen  rather  reproachfully  on 
me,  of  late.  Seeing  me  now,  she  cast  down  her  eyes,  a 
Steely  expression  gathering  about  her  mouth. 

"  You  've  come  too  late,  teacher,"  said  she,  her  voice 
breaking  suddenly  into  a  sob,  as  she  lifted  her  apron  to 
her  eyes. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  2C5 

In  that  instant  it  flashed  through  my  mind, —  the  fear 
George  Giver  had  expressed  lest  Ethel  should  make 
away  with  herself.  I  fancied  that  I  turned  terribly  pale. 

"Come  in,  teacher!"  Aunt  Patty  exclaimed,  with  a 
quick  motion  of  her  hand,  and  she  continued  rapidly : 

"  Ethel  went  away  this  afternoon.  She 's  gone  to 
Taunton.  She  did  n't  tell  nobody  but  me.  If  you  'd  a 
come  sooner,  you  might  a  kep'  her,  teacher.  She 's 
gone  to  Reeky  Merideth's  that  works  thar  in  the  shops, 
and  Eth  used  to  know  her.  She  hires  a  room,  and  Eth 
she  's  saved  a  little  money  cranberryin'.  She  says  she  's 
a  goin'  to  stay  thar  as  long  as  it  holds  out,  and  '  maybe, 
she  says,  *  I  can  git  work ; '  she  says  thar  ain't  nobody 
here  cares  for  her  but  me.  '  And  it 's  only  a  trouble  to 
you  mother,'  she  says,  '  and,  maybe,  I  shan't  never  come 
back  again.'  If  you  could  a'  seen  how  she  looked. 
Oh,  my  God  !  "  As  the  poor  woman  held  her  hands  to 
her  face,  I  saw  the  tears  springing  out  between  her  fin 
gers.  "  There  's  nobody  knows  how  I  feel  this  night ! 
She  wa'n't  a  bad  girl,  my  Ethel  wa'n't.  She  was  de 
ceived,  but  it'll  make  her  bad,  everybody  turnin'  agin  her 
so  —  and  that  Becky,  she  was  sech  a  wild  girl !  Oh,  I  'm 
afeard!  I'm  afeard  !  " 

"  But  we  '11  have  Ethel  back  again,  Mrs.Alden,"  I  said, 
intensely  relieved,  even  at  this  state  of  things,  "and, 
more  than  that,  we  shall  see  her  very  happy  yet.  I  will 
write  to  her,  myself,  to-night." 

"  I  don't  know,"-— Aunt  Patty  shook  her  head  sadly— 
"she  might  think  I  'd  got  you  to  do  it.  I  seen  she  took 
it  to  heart,  you're  turnin'  agin  her  so,  and  I  did  n't  be 
lieve  you  'd  a  done  it  if  you'd  known  all.  I  wanted  to 
go  up  and  see  yer,  for  I  knew  you'd  soften,  but  no,  she 


206  CAPE    COD    FOLKS, 

would  n't  let  me.  She  said  she  'd  never  forgive  me  ef  I 
did.  No  ;  she'd  think  I'd  been  a  puttin'  ye  up  to  it." 
Aunt  Patty  dried  her  tears,  helplessly. 

"  You  ought  to  have  come  to  me  ! "  I  exclaimed  witr 
grave  emphasis,  "whether  she  wanted  you  to  or  not  1 " 

"Perhaps  I  had,  teacher/'  said  Aunt  Patty  meekly, 
"  but  you  could  n't  a  gone  agin  her  ef  you  'd  been  in  my 
place.  She  wasn't  vexed,  teacher,  but  she  was  awful 
set,  and  she  looked  so  wore  out !  I  couldn't  go  agin 
her." 

"  All  the  more  reason,"  I  continued,  fortifying  myself 
with  new  confidence,  "  why  you  should  have  been  firm 
with  her.  She  is  not  fit  to  go  off  by  herself  in  that  way. 
She 's  a  child  !  a  child  !  She  needs  some  one  to  tell  her 
what  to  do." 

"  I  know  that ;  that 's  what  worries  me  ! "  cried  Aunt 
Patty,  bursting  into  tears,  "but  what  could  I  do,  teacher? 
what  could  I  do  ?  " 

"  Well,  never  mind,"  I  said,  assuming  with  readiness 
the  attitude  of  the  consoler,  "  we  will  have  Ethel  home 
again  in  a  very  short  time.  I  will  write  this  evening,  and 
if  she  does  not  come,  why,  we  shall  have  to  go  after  her, 
that 'sail!" 

This  last  I  was  able  to  utter  almost  gaily,  looking  into 
Aunt  Patty's  face. 

The  woman's  poor,  worn  hand  placed  in  mine,  the  look 
of  confidence  upturned  to  me  in  her  tearful  eyes,  her 
readiness  to  forgive,  to  forget  any  resentment  which  she 
might  have  cherished  towards  me,  all  touched  me  deeply 
and  strengthened  me  in  a  sincere  determination  to  win 
Ethel  back. 

"  She  made  me  promise  I  would  n't  let  George   Olver 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  367 

know  where  she  was,  teacher,"  said  Aunt  Patty,  breath 
lessly,  as  I  was  going  out  of  the  door.  "  She  had  her 
reasons ;  we'd  ought  to  respec  'em  some.  I  wouldn't  be 
deceiving  her  entirely." 

On  my  way  homeward,  I  reflected  how  altogether  bur 
densome  it  was  to  one  half  of  humanity  that  the  other 
half  was  not  better  calculated  to  take  care  of  itself,  and 
resolved  that  my  letter  to  Ethel  should  be  at  once  digni 
fied,  imperative,  and  kind. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

TEACHER  HAS  THE  FEVER. — DEATH  OF  LITTLE  BESSIE. 

|HERE  were  oppressive  days  in  Wallencamp, 
when  no  fresh  winds  were  borne  to  us  from  the 
ocean.  The  sun  shone  hot  on  the  stunted 
cedars.  The  tides  crept  in  lazily.  All  one  weary  after 
noon,  in  the  hum  and  stir  of  the  dusty  school-room,  little 
Bessie Alden— Captain  Sartell's  youngest,  and  his  dar 
ling —  sat  stringing  lilac  blossoms  together  in  a  chain. 
She  was  such  a  cunning  edition  of  the  big  Captain.  She 
had  the  same  strong  Saxon  physique  in  miniature,  the 
same  clear  pink  and  white  complexion,  eyes  hardly  more 
limpidly  blue  than  his,  and  hair  that  was  sunniest  flax,  like 
the  ends  of  the  Captain's  beard.  And  how  patient  the 
chubby  little  fingers  were  at  their  task.  What  small, 
charmingly  despairing  sighs  escaped  the  child  when 
some  link  fell  out  in  the  chain  of  purple  flowers  !  I 
was  struck  with  her  air  of  weary,  patient  endeavor  —  so 
important  it  seemed — so  important  tnat  the  chain  should 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  269 

be  finished  before  school  was  out.  And,  at  last,  little 
Bessie  lifted  it  to  wear  upon  her  neck,  and  it  broke  and 
fell  in  pieces  on  the  floor. 

Then  there  was  a  look  of  gentle  dismay  in  the  blue 
eyes,  a  tear  or  two,  and  Bessie  folded  her  arms  on  the 
desk,  her  head  sank  slowly  down  on  them,  and  she  fell 
asleep. 

She  was  still  sleeping  when  I  dismissed  the  school. 
The  sound  of  the  others  going  out  did  not  wake  her ;  the 
Phenomenon,  disappearing  through  the  door,  pointed  a 
finger  at  her,  his  face  full  of  scornful  merriment  —  so  in 
credible  was  it  to  him  that  any  one  should  sleep  when 
school  was  out. 

I  went  down  to  Bessie  and  woke  her  gently.  She 
looked  at  me,  at  first,  with  startled,  feverish  eyes,  as  though 
she  did  not  know  me,  and  screamed  in  pain  or  terror. 
I  noticed  then  that  the  color  on  her  cheeks  was  unnatur 
ally  bright.  I  put  my  hand  on  her  pulse.  It  was  throb 
bing  violently.  I  was  thoroughly  frightened. 

"  Come,  Bess,"  I  said,  as  winningly  and  soothingly  as 
I  could,  "  come  home  with  teacher,  now.  Teacher  will 
lead  you,  all  the  way." 

For  answer,  the  child's  head  fell  heavily  to  one  side.  I 
tried  to  take  her  in  my  arms,  but  she  was  very  heavy.  I 
found  one  of  the  small  boys  lingering  outside  the  school- 
house  and  sent  him  for  Bessie's  father. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  look  with  which  Captain  Sar- 
tell  'ifted  his  baby  in  his  arms.  He  had  seven  other  chil 
dren  ;  he  was  a  poor  man,  a  Wallencamper,  but  one 
would  have  thought  him  a  king,  and  that  the  only  hope  of 
his  line  lay  treasured  in  the  mass  of  flaxen  curls  pressed 
against  his  shoulder,. as  he  carried  her  home. 


270  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

The  next  morning,  early,  Captain  Sartell  appeared 
at  the  Ark  with  a  blanched  face.  Bess  had  been  growing 
worse,  he  said.  They  feared  it  was  a  fever.  He  was 
going  to  West  Wallen  for  a  doctor.  "She  thinks,"  he 
continued,  with  absolute  white  bewilderment  on  his  fea 
tures,  "  that  she's  in  school  all  the  while,  and  it 's  a  gittin' 
late,  and  the  teacher  ain't  there,  and  so  she  keeps  a 
callin'  for  the  teacher  ;  and  I  would  n't  ask  ye  to  go  up, 
teacher,  if  you  was  anyways  afeard,  but  it  *ud  break  your 
heart  to  hear  her." 

For  one  of  my  years,  I  knew  singularly  little,  either  of 
sickness  or  death,  so  I  was  the  more  readily  susceptible 
to  the  slight  disrespect  the  Captain  seemed  to  have  cast 
on  my  wisdom  and  fortitude. 

"  Certainly  I  will  go  and  see  her,"  I  said  "  why  should 
I  be  afraid?" 

"  I  was  only  thinkin*  it  was  fair  to  say,"  said  the  Cap 
tain  "  she  was  took  so  sudden  and  so  violent  like,  it 
might  be  —  might  be  —  suthin' —  suthin'  kitchin'  perhaps. 
They  was  a  case  or  two  o'  scarlet  fever  up  to  Wallen,  but 
she  was  n't  exposed  no  way  that  we  know  on.  She  was  n't 
exposed." 

The  Captain,  regarding  me  intently,  repeated  the 
words,  thrusting  his  neck  out  with  a  pitiful  gulp,  his  hand 
on  the  latch.  Observing  him,  the  expression  of  my  face 
changed ;  he  groaned  as  he  went  out,  closing  the  door 
silently. 

My  first  impulse  then  was  to  pack  my  trunk  and  start 
for  home,  but  the  wailing  of  Mrs.  Abagail  and  of  the 
other  women  who  had  followed  the  Captain  in,  lamenting 
one  with  another  in  an  agony  of  helpless  fear,  appealed 
to  my  courage  and  presence  of  mind,  and  had  a  strangely 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  371 

sustaining  and  quieting  effect  upon  me.  I  suggested  after 
a  few  moments  reflection,  that  very  likely  the  case  was 
not  so  bad  as  Captain  Sartell  supposed.  I  determined 
to  have  no  school  that  day,  and  advised  the  women  what 
they  should  do,  in  case  their  children  had  been  already 
exposed  to  a  contagious  disease.  Then  a  happy  thought 
struck  me.  I  went  out  in  the  other  part  of  the  Ark  to 
seek  Grandma  Spicer.  I  wondered  why  we  had  not 
thought  of  her,  before. 

She  entered  the  room  where  the  women  sat.  Calm 
and  sunshine  was  Grandma  Spicer  —  calm  and  sunshine 
breaking  through  a  storm. 

If  it  was  scarlet  fever,  she  knew  just  what  to  do.  She  and 
pa  had  had  it  years  ago,  and  they  'd  lived  through  it ;  but 
she  did  n't  believe  that  it  was  nothin'  half  so  bad,  and 
"What  if  it  is,  you  poor  critturs,  you,"  said  Grandma  in 
such  a  tone  as  she  would  have  used  to  soothe  a  frightened 
child,  "  every  time  there 's  a  squall  must  we  go  to  takin* 
on  as  though  it  was  our  doin's  ?  The  Lord,  He  makes  the 
squalls,  and  He  don't  put  it  on  "us  to  manage  'em;  but 
up  thar  in  His  fa'r  weather,  He  looks  down  on  the  storms 
that  we  know  not  whither,  but  are  only  drivin'  of  us  land 
ward  safe,  and  'keep  ye  still,'  He  says,  'jest  keep  ye 
still ! '  No  need  o'  strainin'  eyes,  but  fix  'em  thar,  on 
Him.  I  Ve  seen  a  many  times  when  no  words  but  them 
would  do." 

The  tears  stood  in  Grandma's  eyes.  Beautiful  soul ! 
Whatever  storms  she  might  have  known  in  her  life's  voy 
age,  she  only  seemed  to  lie  at  anchor  now,  in  a  sure 
haven ;  and  all  the  while,  her  heart  was  going  out  in  the 
tenderest  sympathy  to  those  still  tossing  on  the  seas  and 
striving  to  make  perilous  passages,  even  to  those  watching 


272  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

false  harbor  lights  in  the  distance.  She  had  had  an  ex 
perience  wide  enough  for  all.  She  had  found  where  it 
was  still.  She  longed  to  draw  all  others  into  that  stillness. 

Soon  Grandma  was  on  her  way  to  give  help  and  conso 
lation  where  it  was  most  needed  —  in  Captain  Sartell  's 
household.  She  did  not  come  back  until  near  mid-clay. 
Mrs.  Ithamer's  children  were  kept  carefully  out  of  the 
room  when  she  entered. 

"  The  Lord  is  a  goin'  to  take  that  little  one  to  Himself, 
teacher,"  she  said  to  me,  very  impressively. 

Captain  Sartell  had  not  yet  returned  with  the  doctor. 
Possibly  he  had  been  obliged  to  drive  to  the  next  town. 
Poor  Mrs.  Sartell  was  nearly  distracted.  Bessie's  fever 
had  gone  to  her  brain. 

"  We  couldn't  quiet  her,  no  way/*  Grandma  continued, 
"  and  she  's  a  growin'  weak,  but  when  them  spells  come 
on,  she  's  ravin',  first  about  one  thing  and  then  another, 
but  mostly  it 's  school,  school.  '  It 's  a  gittin'  so  late  in 
school  and  the  teacher  not  there' — and  then  she  screams 
and  moans  so  !  Poor,  sufferin'  darlin' !  ye  can't  ease  her 
no  way." 

With  a  desperate  determination  not  to  yield  myself  to 
my  own  thoughts,  I  informed  Mrs.  Ithamer  that  I  was 
going  to  live  with  Grandma  a  while,  that  I  should  not 
go  through  that  part  of  the  Ark  where  she  and  the  chil 
dren  were,  and  she  must  keep  the  little  door  at  the  foot 
of  the  stairway  locked,  and  not  let  the  children  follow 
me ;  and  I  sprinkled  myself  with  camphor  and  went 
back  with  Grandma  to  Captain  Sartell 's  house. 

Mrs.  Sartell  was  alone  in  the  room  with  Bess.  I 
expected  that  she  would  meet  me  with  an  almost  re 
proachful  look,  but  there  was  only  sorrow  in  her  face,  a 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  273 

sorrow  that  seemed  intensified  by  the  smile  she  lifted  to 
us  as  we  entered.  The  air  in  the  room  was  very  pure  and 
sweet.  The  bed  on  which  Bess  lay  was  as  white  as  snow. 
But  what  a  change  a  day  had  wrought  in  the  little  face 
pressed  against  the  pillow. 

"  Teacher  's  come,"  said  Grandma  Spicer,  with  soft, 
pathetic  cheer,  bending  over  the  child. 

"Would  she  care,  now?"  I  thought.  "Would  she 
know  me  ?  " 

Just  once  she  opened  her  eyes  wide,  smiled,  and  threw 
her  arms  towards  me  feebly.  I  would  have  taken  her 
then,  I  thought,  if  it  had  been  my  death. 

They  wrapped  a  shawl  around  her,  and  I  took  her  in 
my  arms,  rocked  her  gently  and  sung  to  her,  very  softly, 
the  songs  she  loved  best.  She  moved  a  little  restlessly, 
and  then  lay  very  still  with  her  head  on  my  breast. 

So  I  rocked  and  sang  to  Bess,  and  the  two  women 
moved  noiselessly  about  the  room  until  Grandma  Spicer 
came  and  looked  down  very  intently  into  the  little  one's 
face. 

"  She 's  asleep,"  I  murmured,  placing  a  finger  on  my  lips. 

"Yes,  she's  asleep,"  said  Grandma,  in  a  trembling 
voice,  solemnly.  "Sweet,  purty  little  one,"  she  went  on, 
with  tears  running  down  her  cheeks,  and  she  turned 
to  the  mother — "Thank  God,  you  ! "  she  exclaimed,  with 
sudden  strength  and  firmness  in  her  voice,  that  was  yet 
thrilled  with  emotion,  "  From  sorrowin'  and  from  pain  for- 
evermore,  the  Lord  has  took  His  lamb  ! " 

Aye,  life's  chain  of  dewy  morning  flowers  was  broken  ! 
The  baby  fingers  had  dropped  those  purple  fragments 
without  grief  or  dismay,  now  —  only  the  peace  of  some 
sweet  unfolding  mystery  over  the  veiled  blue  eyes  I 

xl 


274  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Still,  she  seemed  to  me  asleep  —  only  asleep.  I  felt 
no  shrinking  from  the  dead  child  in  my  arms.  When 
they  took  her  away  from  me  and  laid  her  on  the  bed,  I 
looked  at  her  tranquil  face,  and  the  mother's  passionate 
grief  seemed  out  of  place.  Why  should  one  wish  to 
wake  another  from  such  repose  ?  I  could  not  compre 
hend  the  mother's  aching  sense  of  loss.  But  later, 
when  we  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  and  saw  Captain 
Sartell  and  the  doctor  driving  very  fast  up  the  lane,  I 
vient  down  the  stairs  and  passed  out  before  them.  I 
could  not  bear  to  watch  the  strong  man's  face  when  he 
should  find  his  baby  dead. 

Little  Bess  was  buried  under  the  lilac  blossoms.  The 
fever  which  had  so  soon  smitten  her  down  was  not  pro 
perly  a  contagious  one.  I  went  on  with  my  school  again, 
missing  the  sweet  face  of  the  dead  child  more  and  more 
each  succeeding  day. 

Not  one  of  the  children  with  whom  she  had  played 
was  taken  sick,  but  it  was  scarcely  two  weeks  after  her 
death  that  I  was  taken  sick  as  she  had  been.  In  the  in 
terval  George  Olver  had  come  to  me  and  I  had  written  to 
Ethel,  but  Ethel  had  not  come  back  to  Wallencamp  nor 
answered  my  letter.  I  was  more  anxious  and  troubled 
about  her  than  I  dared  confess  to  any  one.  Then  sud 
denly,  I  ceased  to  care  for  any  of  those  things  Of  my 
last  afternoon  in  school  I  could  recall  very  little  after 
wards,  except  that  the  clock  on  the  shelf  back  of  me 
seemed  to  be  ticking  in  my  brain,  and  the  voices  in  the 
room  sounded  indistinct.  My  own  voice  sounded  to  me 
like  that  of  some  one  else  speaking  from  a  long  way  off. 

And  at  evening,  in  the  Ark,  I  put  my  little  room  in 
perfect  order,  my  head  growing  heavy  with  pain.  I  felt 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  275 

that  I  must  finish  this  task  before  I  lay  down,  and  there 
was  another  intention  to  which  I  clung  with  a  painful  per 
tinacity  of  mind. 

I  sat  down  at  my  table  and  wrote  half  a  dozen  or  more 
brief  letters  home.  These  were  filled  with  irrelevant 
anecdotes  pertaining  to  my  experience  among  the 
Wallencampers,  a  few  desultory  descriptions  of  character 
and  scenery,  with  a  philosophical  digression  or  two. 

To  one  not  intimately  acquainted  with  the  epistolary 
products  of  my  pen,  these  letters  would  have  undoubt 
edly  suggested  the  workings  of  a  crazed  and  feverish 
brain,  but  they  were  not  calculated  to  arouse  any  partic 
ular  alarm  in  the  minds  of  my  friends  at  home,  unless, 
indeed,  it  was  by  reason  of  the  unusual  care  and  pains 
taking  evinced  in  their  chirography  and  the  punctilious 
manner  in  which  they  were  dated.  The  first  one  I  dated 
for  the  evening  on  which  I  was  writing.  The  next  for  a 
time  several  days  in  advance  of  that,  and  so  on,  performing 
this  strange  act  with  utter  indifference  to  the  presumption 
of  it. 

When  it  was  finished,  I  seemed  to  have  forgotten  what 
next  to  do.  Grandma  Spicer  told  me  afterwards,  that  I 
went  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  called  to  her,  that  she 
came  up,  and  I  told  her  very  gravely  that  I  was  going  to 
be  sick,  but  I  knew  I  was  not  going  to  die,  and  adjured 
her  with  a  look  in  my  eyes  which  she  said,  "  I  could  n't 
go  ag'inst,  teacher,  for  it  was  more  convincin'  than 
health,"  not  to  write  to  my  friends  of  my  sickness,  and 
instructed  her  how  to  send  the  letters  which  I  had  sealed, 
stamped,  directed,  and  methodically  arranged  on  the 
table,  in  their  proper  order  to  the  Post. 

For  the  rest,  all  through  the  pain  and  impotence  and 


276  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

vague  mental  wanderings  of  the  days  that  followed,  I  had 
a  restful,  comforting  consciousness  that  a  kind,  loving 
face,  like  the  lamp  of  my  salvation,  was  hanging  ever  over 
me  —  always  it  was  Grandma  Spicer's  face,  though  it 
seemed  to  have  grown  strangely  young  and  fair,  and  the 
eyes  that  followed  me  with  such  a  lovingly  tireless,  wistful 
expression  in  them  were  like  other  eyes  that  I  had  known, 
and  the  watcher's  voice  was  clear  and  musical,  with  a 
youthful  repression  in  it.  Still,  somehow,  it  was  Grand 
ma's  face,  her  eyes,  her  voice  —  and  when  at  last,  I  woke 
one  morning  very  weak,  but  able  to  recognize  clearly  all 
the  familiar  objects  in  the  room,  it  was  Grandma  Spicer 
indeed,  who  sat  by  my  bed,  beaming  gloriously  upon  me. 

"Is  it  most  school  time,  Grandma?"  I  inquired, 
feebly,  slowly  concentrating  my  gaze  on  her  face. 

"  Oh,  laws,  no  !  "  said  Grandma,  with  cheerful  emphasis, 
and  then  continued  talking  in  her  quiet  monotone.  I 
hardly  heard  what  she  said.  I  was  painfully  endeavoring 
to  pick  up  the  lost  thread  of  my  consciousness  where 
I  had  left  it  on  that  night  when  I  put  my  room  in 
order  and  went  so  wearily  to  bed.  At  last  I  inquired, 
Still  vaguely,  "  How  long?  " 

Grandma  understood.     She  smiled  reassuringly. 

"Only  a  little  while,  teacher,"  she  said.  "You've 
only  been  sick  a  little  while  — a  few  days,  may  be,"  and 
she  immediately  proffered  me  some  broth  which  was 
a  triumph  of  the  good  soul's  art,  and  seemed  to  partake  of 
her  own  comfortable  and  sustaining  nature.  I  lay  back 
on  the  pillows,  contented  to  be  very  still  for  a  little  while. 

When  I  next  looked  up  and  recognized  that  familiar 
figure  sitting  by  the  bed,  I  said,  "  Has  Ethel  come  back  ?  " 

"  Yis,  Ethel 's  come  back  1 "  said  Grandma,  in  a  tone 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  277 

which  seemed  to  imply,  in  the  very  best  faith,  that  during 
my  illness,  the  world  had  been  running  on  excellently 
well.  "You  take  some  more  broth  now,  teacher,  and 
keep  r'al  slow  minded  and  easy,  and  hev'  a  good  night's 
rest,  and  to-morrer  I  '11  tell  ye  all  about  it !  " 
But  I  persisted ;  so  Grandma  continued  gently  : 
"  Wall,  it  wa'n't  much  to  tell,  only  the  doctor  said  ye 
was  n't  to  be  talked  to  much,  nor  worked  up ;  but  I 
reckon  a  little  pleasant  news  ain't  a  gonter  hurt  nobody. 
Ye  see,  when  you  was  took  sick,  George  Olver,  he  got  a 
hold  of  where  Ethel  was ;  he  had  a  mistrustin  of  it,  some 
how  —  and  he  went  and  told  her,  and  it  brought  her,  hearin 
you  was  dangerous,  and  she  calculated  she  might  be 
o'  use  to  ye  now,  for  some,  they  be  sich  friends  !  "  said 
Grandma,  making  this  observation  with  the  most  guileless 
enthusiasm.  "  And  Ethel,  she  wa'n't  much  brought  up, 
and  used  to  be  as  wild  and  harum-scarum  as  any  of  'em ; 
but  I  allus  said  that  there  was  a  good  deal  to  Ethel,  after 
all.  Wall,  George  Olver,  he  rer^^ized  where  she  was 
and  he  went  down  thar  and  found  her,  and  they  was  n't 
anybody  ventured  to  say  a  word,  and  what  need?  for 
everybody  respec's  George  Olver,  knowin'  he  's  uncom 
mon  ser'ous  and  high  minded,  and  the  very  same  hour  they 
came  home,  Ethel,  she  come  up  here,  and  she  turned  me 
right  out  of  the  room,  as  ye  might  say.  *  It 's  my  place, 
Grandma,'  says  she,  and  '  I  'm  better  able  than  you.  I 
understand.  It 's  my  place.'  And  she  was  n't  vary  strong, 
but  she  would  n't  give  up  to  nobody,  and  only  run  home 
a  little  while  between  spells  to  rest,  and  watched  and 
and  tended  ye  as  faithful  as  though  she  was  keepin'  count 
of  every  breath ;  and  when  the  fever  turned  a'  Monday 
night,  and  you  fell  off  into  a  kind  of  a  nateral  sleep,  the 


278  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

doctor,  he  says  to  her,  what  it  ain't  a  very  common  thing 
for  a  doctor  to  say.  '  It 's  you  saved  her  life  ! '  he  says. 
'  She  was  vary  sick.'  And  he  shook  his  head  the  way  they 
do.  *  You  've  tended  vary  faithful,'  he  says,  and  Ethel, 
she  hardly  spoke,  but  I  seen  when  she  looked  up  that 
her  eyes  was  a  shinin',  and  that  happy  look  that  she 's  had 
somehow,  sence  she  came  back  —  I  can't  tell  ye  exactly, 
teacher,  but  it 's  most  like  as  ef  somebody  should  have  a 
bad  dream,  and  be  wakin'  up  kinder  surprised  and  thank 
ful —  but  when  the  doctor  said  them  words,  I'll  never 
forget  how  her  eyes  went  a  shinin',  and  she  says  to 
me,  '  I  'm  goin'  home  now,  and  never  you  tell  her,  when 
she  wakes  up,  for  she  thought  it  was  you  watchin'  with 
her  all  the  time,  and  kep'  a  callin  '  Grandma  !  Grandma  ! ' 
says  she,  '  and  don't  you  tell  her  !  don't  you  !  for  it  would 
seem  as  though  I  was  obligin'  her,  and  if  she  forgives 
me  and  is  friendly  I  don't  want  it  to  be  for  that.'  And  I 
did  n't  say  as  I  should  or  should  n't  tell,"  said  Grandma, 
smilingly  unconscious  of  the  two  large  tears  that  were 
stealing  down  her  cheeks,  "  but  I  knowed  pretty  well  what 
I  had  on  my  mind  ! " 

Grandma  ceased  speaking,  and  began  to  busy  herself 
about  the  room,  humming  softly  her  favorite  refrain : 

"  The  Light  of  the  World  is  Jesus." 

I  lay  very  still,  thinking  — 

"Once  I  was  blind,  but  now  I  can  see!  " 

That  low,  glad,  tremulous  murmur  brought  no  peace  to  my 
troubled  heart. 

When  Grandma  Spicer  looked  at  me  again,  I  fancied 
she  met  a  helpless,  appealing,  almost  an  aggrieved 
expression  in  my  eyes. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  279 

"I  want  to  see  her,"  I  said.  "I  want  to  see  Ethel, 
of  course." 

"  Yis,  yis,"  said  Grandma,  "  to-morrer.  You  'd  want  to 
talk,  and  you  've  had  enough  for  one  day  I  '11  tell  her, 
and  she  '11  understand." 

"  But  I  want  to  see  her  now,"  I  persisted. 

"They's  some  folks  just  come  in  to  inquire,"  con 
tinued  Grandma,  giving  an  easeful  touch  to  the  pillows. 
"  They  's  been  a  good  many  in  to  inquire.  May  be,  she's 
amongst  'em.  I  '11  go  down  and  see." 

Soon  I  heard  the  old,  girlish,  familiar  step  on  the 
stairs.  Ethel  hesitated,  standing  an  instant  on  the 
threshold.  In  spite  of  the  new  and  loftier  soul  looking 
out  of  her  eyes,  in  spite  of  the  new  and  womanly  dignity 
which  she  bore  so  reposefully,  she  read  my  face  with  that 
quick,  intuitive  glance  I  had  learned  to  know  so  well. 

Then  coming  towards  me,  she  put  her  arm  gently 
around  my  neck,  kissed  me,  understanding  all,  hushing  all, 
forgiving  all,  and  smiling  a  tender  prohibition  in  her  eyes, 
put  her  finger  on  my  lips. 

Sobbing  inwardly,  I  accepted  this  divine  retaliation 
in  silence,  and  rested  a  while  in  that  loving,  warm 
embrace. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

BENNEY  GIVES  THE  TEACHER  A  NEW  CHAIR. 

FE  morning,  early  in  my  convalescence,  I  was 
startled  by  a  mighty  rumbling  and  scraping 
sound  on  the  narrow  stairway,  as  of  some 
unwieldly  object  pushed  steadily  upward.  The  summit 
reached,  I  heard  the  retreat  of  manly  feet,  and  this 
leviathan  presented  itself  with  Grandma  Spicer  as  an 
animating  force,  breathless  and  smiling,  in  the  rear. 

"  He  did  n't  have  time  to  paint  it,  teacher,"  she  began 
joyfully,  "  but  it  '11  be  jest  as  comftable  to  set  in.  He 's 
been  explainin'  of  it  to  me —  Ben  has  —  ye  see, 
it 's  a  cheer.  He  made  it  for  ye,  himself.  And  all  you  've 
got  to  do  is  to  turn  this  'ere  crank,  here — "  Grandma's 
countenance  was  radiant  with,  wonder  and  approval  — 
"and  up  it'll  go  —  so — as  high  as  ye  want  it !  and  this 
'ere  can  be  shoved  in  and  out  for  ye  to  put  yer  feet 
on,  and  this  'ere  back  can  be  let  anyways  ye  want  it.  He 
seen  a  picture  o'  one  in  a  paper,  once,  and  he  went 
and  made  this  by  his  own  eye,  and  all  the  hinges 
and  cranks,  and  everythm'  as  slick  as  a  pin  1  He  did  n't 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  281 

say  anythin1,"  Grandma  continued,  in  a  slightly  lowered, 
insinuating  tone  of  voice,  "  about  likin'  to  come  up  and 
see  ye,  when  ye  was  able  to  set  up,  and  you  know,  teacher, 
as  I  don't  believe  in  meddlin'  in  young  folks  affairs,  but 
it  appeared  to  me,  havin'  had  so  much  exper'ence 
with  the  men  folks  as  I  have,  that  may  be  he  was  kind  o' 
hangin'  around  waitin'  for  an  invitation, —  for  ye  see, 
they  're  goin'  to  sail  now,  in  a  vary  few  days." 

So,  a  little  later,  I  sat  up  in  my  new  chair  and  received 
the  Cradlebow,  in  a  loose,  trailing  gown  of  rich  material, 
heavily  embroidered.  In  the  midst  of  my  narrow  and 
humble  surrounding  I  had  an  exiled  princess  sort  of 
consciousness,  and  recognized  with  a  new  pleasure  the 
Cradlebow 's  lordly  face  and  bearing,  as  he  stooped 
on  entering  the  little  red  door. 

Living  in  a  reverie,  still, —  a  fancy,  a  day  dream, 
strangely  vivid  and  life-like,  but  not  real, —  not  real,  I  was 
so  far  softened  by  my  illness  that,  with  the  delicious  sense 
of  returning  health  and  strength,  I  was  content,  for 
a  time,  to  live  simply  in  the  present,  to  dismiss  the  stern 
warden,  Duty,  from  my  thoughts,  and  that  ever  grave 
necessity  for  maintaining  a  mental  and  moral  superiority 
which  had  so  oppressed  me. 

It  had  been  weary  work  living  on  the  heights,  and  what 
had  it  all  amounted  to  ?  I  asked  myself,  with  a  reckless 
ness  too  tranquil,  now,  to  be  converted  into  bitterness. 
"  It  was  so  much  easier  and  safer,  lower  down."  But 
while  I  doubted  and  almost  gave  up  the  struggle,  the 
Cradlebow  aspired  ever  to  greater  faith,  and  hope 
in  life,  and  enthusiasm  for  life's  work. 

And  with  all  this,  it  was  evident  that  there  had  been  with 
him  an  inward  struggle  and  preparation,  a  silent  con- 


283  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

quering  of  self.  With  a  vain  discontent  for  my  own  failure, 
I  marvelled  at  the  glory  which  had  crowned  his  humble 
efforts.  "  This,  too,"  I  thought,  "  is  a  sort  of  heroism," 
and  my  spirit  of  condescension  towards  the  youth  took  on 
something  new,  like  reverence. 

It  was  even  with  pride  that  I  reflected,  "Here  is  a 
strength  I  may  rely  upon  by  and  by,"  and  I  was  proud 
that  my  lover's  kiss  was  so  pure  upon  my  lips,  his  breath 
on  my  cheek  —  ah,  foolish,  sleeping  heart  !  It  was  well 
that  the  dream  should  grow  passionate,  even  intense,  for 
the  awakening  was  near. 

In  the  bewildered  and  feverish  condition  of  mind  in 
which  I  had  last  left  the  Kedarville  school-house,  I  had 
been  consciously  impressed,  at  least,  with  the  idea  that 
I  should  probably  never  enter  those  familiar  walls  again, 
never  again  as  the  teacher.  And  now,  I  had  no  inten 
tion  of  resuming  my  labors  there. 

But  I  did  not  wish  to  flaunt  my  boasted  independence 
before  the  family  circle  at  Newtown,  until  my  eyes  should 
have  assumed  a  little  more  nearly  their  usual  proportions, 
and  my  manner  of  going  up  and  down  stairs  should  have 
become  less  strikingly  feeble. 

I  decided  to  remain  in  Wallencamp  a  few  days  to 
recuperate.  I  was  not  impatient  nor  especially  chagrined 
on  account  of  this  necessity.  Secretly  willing  to  await 
the  departure  of  the  Cradlebow's  ship,  to  have  a  brief 
season  of  rest  from  all  care  and  responsibility  among  the 
scenes  of  my  past  labors — a  little  breathing  space  in 
which  to  study  those  people  quietly,  to  exchange  unhur 
ried  kindly  words  with  them  before  I  should  go  away  from 
them  forever  —  I  was  glad  to  have  it  so. 

Such  welcomings  and  congratulations  as  I  received 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  283 

from  the  Wallencampers  when  I  was  able  to  get  down 
the  stairs  once  more  1  I  felt  very  happy,  almost  humble, 
sitting  where  the  sunlight  poured  in  at  the  open  door  of 
Grandma's  living-room. 

That  picture  is  still  before  my  mind  :  The  bare,  shining 
floor,  the  unpainted  table,  the  chimney-shelf  and  a  clock, 
the  successful  working  of  whose  machinery  demanded  a 
crazily  tilted  attitude ;  a  Bible  on  the  shelf,  too,  and 
Grandma's  spectacles  lying  askew.  Then,  a  commodious 
lounge  of  exceedingly  simple  construction  set  up  straight 
against  the  wall  and  extending  the  whole  length  of  the 
room.  The  original  framework  of  this  lounge,  by  the  way, 
disclosed  itself  in  many  bold  and  striking  instances,  under 
a  unique  method  of  upholstery.  It  was  stuffed  sectionally. 
There  was  the  "old  paper  corner,"  within  whose  rustling 
precincts  Noel  was  reputed  once  to  have  endured  agonies, 
during  a  religious  meeting  held  at  the  Ark.  There  was  the 
"  sawdust "  section,  substantial,  but  by  no  means  billowy  to 
the  touch,  and  the  "dried  yarb "  section,  of  a  nature 
similar  to  the  sawdust ;  and,  omitting  the  "  old  clothes 
section  "  with  its  insidious  buttons,  and  the  "  corn-cob  " 
section,  and  the  "  cotton- wood  bark  "  section,  there  was 
the  "feather  corner,"  at  the  other  end,  generally  conceded 
to  be  luxurious,  but  silently  avoided,  as  having  given,  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  a  sharp  suggestion  of  quills. 
Over  the  whole,  depressions  and  excrescences,  was 
stretched  a  faded  chintz  cover.  But  woe  to  the  luckless 
wight  who  thought  to  find  repose  by  throwing  himself 
carelessly  down  on  this  hitherto  untried  structure ! 
It  was  reserved  only  to  the  knowing  few  to  find  a  com 
fortable  seat  on  the  lounge. 

The  cat,  without  having  subjected  herself  to  those  trials 


284  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

which  some  of  us  endured,  had  discovered,  with  true 
feline  instinct,  wherein  the  deepest  rest  lay,  and  had 
established  herself  on  a  suspended  bridge  of  chintz  be 
tween  two  overhanging  systems. 

There  were  a  few  chairs  in  the  room  besides,  but  the 
doorsteps  were  wide.  Grandpa  sat  always  in  the  south 
door,  Grandma  on  the  steps  looking  towards  the  lane, 
and  it  was  at  this  latter  inviting  spot,  that  the  neighbors, 
the  "  passers  by,"  paused  most  frequently  and  disposed 
themselves,  with  a  grateful  air. 

I  listened  to  their  talk,  while  the  birds  struggled  to 
make  noisy  interruptions  and  cast  their  fleeting  shadows 
in  the  sunlight  on  the  floor,  and  the  peach  blossoms  out 
side  were  falling  noiselessly. 

Grandma  Spicer  had  been  telling  me  in  a  happy, 
droning  voice,  though  gravely  enough,  of  the  "  awakenin' " 
that  was  going  on  in  Wallencamp  —  how  "  a  good  many 
o'  the  young  folks  was  impressed,"  and  "Cap'n  Sartell 
had  been  seekin',  ever  since  little  Bessie  died,  and  some 
that  had  seemed  to  be  forgitful  and  backslidin'  had  come 
forward  and  told  where  they  stood,  until  it  seemed  as 
though  the  Lord  was  a  sendin'  a  blessin'  down,  jest  as 
soft  and  beautiful  as  them  blossoms,"  and  Grandma's 
eyes  wandered  towards  the  peach  tree  with  a  tearful  fer 
vor  in  them. 

Aunt  Patty  was  a  temporary  occupant  of  the  steps. 
Her  anxious,  care-lined  face  was  turned  indoors,  away 
from  the  light  and  the  falling  blossoms.  There  was  an 
anxious,  restless  ring  in  her  voice,  too. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  hev  such  a  time,  I'm  sure,"  said  she. 
"  We  need  it  bad  enough,  any  time,  Lord  knows  !  —  but 
it  seems  a  queer  season  o'  the  year  for 't.  When  we  've 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  285 

had  'em  before  it's  generally  been  along  in  the  winter.  I 
never  heered  of  an  awakenin'  before  right  in  the  midst  o' 
tater-buggin'." 

Aunt  Fatty  was  not  intentionally  irreverent.  Life,  with 
her,  had  been  so  narrow  and  hard  pressed,  always  a 
painful  reckoning  of  times  and  seasons. 

The  allusion  to  "  tater-buggin' "  gave  Grandpa  an 
opportunity  of  a  sort  of  which  he  had  not  been  slow  to 
avail  himself  lately  —  to  engage  in  a  little  old-time,  secu 
lar  conversation.  His  voice,  however,  as  it  sounded 
from  the  south  doorway,  was  impressive  enough  for  any 
subject. 

"  Grists  on  'em,  this  year  ! "  he  said. 

"Heaps  !  "  Aunt  Patty  responded  readily.  "I  don't 
see  how  ever  the  children  could  be  speered  to  go  to 
school  now,  anyway.  Randal  had  all  eight  o'  hisn  out 
yesterday,  with  a  four-quart  pail  apiece,  and  him  and 
Lucindy  pickin'  into  the  half-bushel  besides ;  and  Rod 
ney  told  Bede,  for  the  livin'  truth,  he'd  seen  a  lantern 
movin'  around  last  night  right  in  the  dead  o'  night,  and 
he  looked  out  and  it  was  the  Dean  and  Abbie  Ann  out 
tater-buggin',  and  everybody  knows  they  wasn't  out  in 
the  daytime  it  was  so  dreadful  hot.  I  'm  sure  we  never 
had  such  queer  weather  afore.  But  them  bugs  are  the 
hardest  critturs  to  kill.  It 's  almost  impossible  to  dis 
pose  on  'em;  and  it  does  seem  enough,  what  with 
ploughin'  and  plantin*  and  harrowin'  and  hoein'  to  git  a 
few  potatoes,  and  like  enough,  wet  weather  to  rot  'em, 
without  havin'  to  fight  over  'em,  for  the  last  chance,  with 
a  whole  army  of  varmint.  I  'm  sure  this  'ere  way  o' 
gittin'  a  livin',  as  old  Grandther  Skewer  used  to  say,  *  It 
costs  more  than  it 's  wuth.' " 


286  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Led  by  the  screams  of  the  little  Spicers  in  AbagaiPs 
apartment,  Grandma  had  left  the  room  for  a  moment, 
and  Grandpa  cleared  his  throat  and  began,  hopefully : 

"Talkin'  about  tater  bugs,"  he  said,  and  he  glanced  at 
me  with  a  preliminary  gleam  in  his  eye,  "  Bachelder  Rae 
was  tellin'  me  the  other  mornin, —  he  said  he  was 
eddicatin'  a  couple  on  'em.  He  said  thar  wa'n't  no 
Other  way  to  get  rid  on  'em,  but  to  appeal  to  their  moral 
natur',  and  he  said  when  he  'd  got  'em  eddicated  up 
to  the  highest  pint  o'  morality,  he  was  a  goin'  to  send 
'em  out  as  missionaries  ter  convart  the  rest.  Bachelder 
said  he  'd  got  'em  fur  enough  along,  now,  so  't  they  'd 
pass  examination  along  o'  average  folks  that  wa'n't 
admitted  church  members  —  " 

"HoggartySpicer  !" 

Grandma,  unexpectedly  returning,  had  caught  the 
last  word  only  of  Grandpa's  discourse,  but  taking  this  in 
connection  with  the  bright  and  mirthful  expression 
of  his  countenance,  she  judged  that  his  sentiments 
had  been  of  an  unusually  reprehensible  nature. 

"Wall,  wall,  ma,"  said  Grandpa,  with  an  evident 
notion  of  continuing  his  narration,  "  what  now,  ma  ?  " 

"  I  hope,  pa,  "  said  Grandma,  giving  one  the  im 
pression  that  she  felt  she  could  n't  put  the  case  too 
Strongly,  "  that  you  are  as  innocent  o'  what  you  've  be'n 
a  sayin'  as  the  babe  unborn,  and  to  your  credit,  pa, 
I  believe  you  be  !  " 

"  Wall,  wall,  ma,"  said  Grandpa,  now  mentally  lost  and 
bewildered,  "  I  guess  I  know  what  I  'm  talk  in'  about  1 " 

"And  if  you  do,  pa,"  said  Grandma,  with  a  solemnity 
that  was  unutterably  conclusive,  "  you  know  more  than  I 
do  I" 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  287 

Then,  while  the  women  talked,  Grandpa,  sitting  alone 
in  the  south  door,  sighed  and  whittled,  and  abstractedly 
scanned  the  horizon.  Once,  he  made  a  singularly  bold 
attempt  to  entice  Aunt  Patty  again  into  the  channels 
of  profane  conversation,  by  an  introductory  speculation 
as  to  the  prospect  of  the  bean  crop;  but  Grandma 
Spicer  nipped  this  reckless  and  irreverent  adventure 
in  the  bud,  by  replying  in  a  calm,  vast  tone  : 

"  Pa,  it  r'aly  seems  to  me  that  for  a  vain  creetur  in 
a  fleetin'  world,  and  a  perfesser  besides,  there  'd  ought 
to  be  more  things  to  talk  about  than  beans  !  " 

Grandpa  Spicer  sighed  still  more  deeply,  gazed 
wistfully  towards  the  barn,  as  though  he  would  fain  have 
shuffled  out  in  that  direction ;  but  the  weather  being  so 
warm,  he  refrained.  He  glanced  at  me  with  a  feeble, 
helpless  smile,  his  head  fell  backward,  his  eyes  gradually 
closed,  and,  in  spite  of  the  iniquities  which  covered 
his  ancient  head,  he  fell  into  a  slumber  that  had  all  the 
semblance  of  child-like  and  unblemished  innocence. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DEATH   OF  THE  CRADLEBOW, 

HILE  Grandpa  Spicer  dozed  peacefully,  Emily 
Gaskell,  also  "  passin'  by,"  joined  the  group 
of  women  on  the  door-steps  of  the  Ark. 

Emily,  by  the  way,  was  regarded  as  a  hopeful  subject  of 
the  "awakenin'."  She  had  been  to  see  a  doctor  in 
Farmouth,  who  told  her  she  could  not  live  through  another 
winter  "with  that  cough  on  her."  She  sat  very  still 
in  the  meetings,  it  was  said,  and  seemed  "  tetched  and 
wonderful,"  whereas  she  had  been  wont  formerly,  on 
occasions  of  this  solemn  nature,  to  evince  many  signs 
of  restlessness,  and  even  to  engage  in  droll  and  sly 
diversions  for  the  greater  delectation  of  the  "  unconsarned." 

Emily  herself  was  particularly  unreserved  on  the 
subject  of  her  spiritual  condition.  Her  tone  had  lost 
none  of  its  former  bright  vivacity,  though  I  thought  I  saw 
frequently  now,  while  she  was  talking,  a  softer  shadow 
steal  over  the  restless,  consuming  fire  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"  I  know  what  some  on  'em  say,"  said  she ;  "  I  know 
what  1  might  a  said,  jest  as  like  as  not,  if  it  had  been 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  28S 

somebody  else  in  ray  place.  Oh,  she's  afraid  she  ain't  a 
goin'  to  git  well,  and  so  she  's  a  seekin'  religion.  She  's 
scart  into  it  I 

u  Wall,  if  folks  that  know  me  are  a  mind  to  say  that, 
they  may ;  though  if  it  comes  to  bein'  scart  into  religion 
by  what  the  doctors  said,  I  should  a  jined  the  church 
twenty  times  over  ! 

"It  ain't  because  I  'm  afraid  o'  what  '11  happen  to  me 
after  I'm  all  dead  and  .peaceable.  It's  because  1  want 
a  little  more  comfort  while  I  'm  a  livin'.  Seems  to  me 
there's  more  comfort  needed  for  the  iivin'. 

"And  ever  since  my  brother  'Lihu  died,  seems  as 
though  them  last  words  o*  hisn  have  been  a  ringin'  in  my 
ears.  '  I  know  somebody  that'll  watch.  Who  ?  Jesus 
will  !  Jesus  will !'  over  and  over  again.  Anil  when  1  get 
to  worryin'  about  things,  and  can't  see  no  way  through,  or 
whoever  's  a  goin'  to  straighten  'em  out,  it  keeps  a  goin', 
'Who,  then?  Jesus  will!  Jesus  will!'  over  and  over. 
And  'Lihu  wasn't  a  professor,  neither;  and  maybe  he 
had  n't  no  right  to  take  the  comfort  out  o'  them  words 
that  he  did  ;  and  maybe  I  hain't  no  right,  and  it 's  only 
like  a  string  o'  music  that  '11  keep  a  runnin'  in  a  body's 
head  sometimes  and  they  not  thinkin'  nor  meanin'  any- 
thm'. 

"  1  don't  see  any  further  into  it  than  I  did  afore.  I 
don't  know  as  1  'm  what  you'd  call  any  more  believin', 
but  when  I  've  laid  till  after  midnight  with  my  eyes  as 
wide  open  as  daylight,  and  no  shut  to  'em,  thinkin'  and 
worryin'  and  coughin',  I  've  seen  it  agin,  jest  the  way  he 
rolled  and  tossed  that  night,  and  then  them  words  come 
to  him,  and  he  smiled  and  went  to  sleep  peacefuller  nor 
any  child;  and  so  I've  said  'em,  and  faith  or  no  faith, 


290  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

believin*  or  no  believin',  they  Ve  set  me  a  cryin',  time 
and  agin,  and  they  Ve  put  me  to  sleep  1  thai,  they  've  put 
me  to  sleep  ! " 

"And  who  else  could  they  'a  be'n  meant  for  but  him 
and  you?"  cried  Grandma,  in  a  gush  of  sympathy,  " him 
and  you,  and  anybody  else  as  you  seen  needed  them 
words  and  could  give  'em  to  'em  to  quiet  'em ;  for,  dear 
woman  1  there  ain't  none  on  us  that  see  into  it,  but  jest 
to  say  it  over.  Dear  woman  !  we  don't  know  no  more. 
It's  what's  a  restin'  all  on  us.  It's  what's  a  restin'  all 
onusl" 

I  looked  up  and  saw  tears  in  Abagail  's  eyes.  I  had 
not  heard  Abagail  spoken  of  as  among  the  number  of 
the  impressed.  There  were  tears  in  my  own  eyes,  I 
knew ;  there  had  grown  to  be  such  a  pathos  in  those 
women's  voices. 

A  little  later,  Emily  lapsed  into  a  strain  of  sprightly 
gossip. 

"And  who  do  you  think 's  kitin'  around  in  this  region 
agin?"  she  began.  "Somebody  you'd  expect  least  of 
all,  I  reckon ;  wall,  it's  Eliot  Turner,"  and  she  nodded 
her  head  quickly  and  expressively  at  the  others. 

"I  don't  mean,"  she  continued,  "that  he's  been  in 
Wall  encamp,  but  Levi  was  down  from  Wallen  this 
mornin,'  and  he  said  they  stopped  last  night  in  Wallen 
Harbor — him  and  some  other  fellers,  mighty  stylish 
lookin',  but  he  said  it  was  Eliot  Turner 's  yacht,  as  fine 
and  fancy-rigged  as  ever  he  see,  and  there  was  some  that 
looked  like  common  sailors,  and  they  all  come  ashore, 
and  the  common  ones  was  the  quietest.  But  he  reck 
oned  the  fisherman  was  off  on '  a  time,'  and  stopped  there 
jest  for  fun,  and  to  show  off,  maybe. 


CAPS    COD    FOLK8  291 

"  Wall,  Levi  told  me  that,  and  to-day,  'long  about  the 
middle  o'  the  forenoon,  my  man  come  up  to  the  house  — 
he's  down  to  shore,  you  know,  along  o'  Cap'n  Sartell 
and  George  Olver  and  Ben  Cradlebow  and  all  the  rest, 
down  there  a  mendin'  up  the  old  schooner,  'cause  Cap'n 
wanted  Ben  to  see  to  it  afore  he  went  away.  My  man 
come  up  for  a  wrench  and  'who  do  you  think  's  a  scootin1 
around  down  on  the  Bay  ?  '  says  he.  *  Wall,  it 's  Eliot 
Turner,' says  he,  'in  the  purtiest  little  craft,  that  runs 
jest  like  a  picter,'  and  he  said  they  could  n't  see  but  two 
men  aboard  of  her  then ;  he  guessed  they  wa'n't  many. 
It  was  jest  like  Eliot  Turner  to  take  a  run  from  \V alien 
down  this  way  to  show  what  he  could  do  alone,  for  he 
was  always  braggin'  about  bein'  so  stiddy  on  his  sea-legs 
and  how 't  he  understood  this  shore  better  'n  any  o'  the 
old  uns. 

"  My  man  said  they  did  n't  know  who  't  was  out  there, 
at  first,  for  it  ain't  the  kind  o'  vessel  often  seen,  and  it 
skimmed  along  on  the  edge  o'  the  water,  Jim  said,  like  a 
bird,  in  and  out  amongst  the  rocks,  so  't  anybody  'd  a 
thought,  not  knowin'  who  they  was  —  and  them,  may  be, 
not  knowin'  the  shore  —  that  they  was  drunk  or  gone 
crazy,  and  Jim  said  they  hollered  to  'em  to  look  out  foi 
the  rocks,  and  they  heered  a  kind  of  a  laugh  on  the 
water,  and  somebody  shouted  back  : 

"  Stow  your  gab,  land  lubbers  !  "  and  they  knew  from 
the  voice,  it  was  Eliot  Turner. 

"  He  was  probably  meanin'  to  put  in  there,  and  might 
a  come  ashore  may  be, —  he  was  wild  enough  —  but  he 
seen  our  men  and  that  kind  o'  hendered  him ;  he  did  n't 
want  to  turn  around  and  put  right  back  neither,  lookin' 
as  though  he  was  scared,  so  he  kep'  on,  and  Jim  said 


293  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

they  watched  'em  clean  out  o>  sight;  'but/  says  he,  'I 
never  seen  a  man  turn  whiter  'n  George  Olver  did  for  a 
minute,  and  then  he  onclinched  his  fist  and  went  to 
work  agin,  harder  than  ever,  for  you  can  allays  depend 
on  Mm,  somehow  —  George  Olver  —  but  he  's  a  dreadful 
close-mouthed  fellow  !' " 

During  the  recital  of  this  narrative,  recalling  so  much 
to  my  mind,  I  experienced  more  than  anything  else  a 
feeling  of  annoyance,  almost  of  resentment,  that  the  fish 
erman  should  appear,  however  remotely,  to  disturb  the 
serenity  of  these  last  few  days  in  which  I  had  to  live  out 
my  Wallencamp  idyl. 

For  the  others  the  story  seemed  to  have  created  a 
momentary  excitement,  but  they  regarded  it,  on  the 
whole,  as  of  little  consequence. 

Aunt  Patty  had  passed  on  to  the  doorway  of  another 
neighbor,  and  George  Olver  's  relations  with  Ethel  soon 
constituted  the  theme  of  a  more  general  and  lively  dis 
course,  in  which  the  remarks  concerning  Ethel  were 
mostly  kind  and  considerate,  and  the  praise  of  George 
Olver  's  conduct  enthusiastic ;  and,  at  the  close  of 
which,  I  remember,  Grandma  said  that  "  the  higher 
minded  folks  gits  to  be,  the  pitifuller  they  be  a'most 
always  ! " 

The  fact  of  the  fisherman's  transient  appearance  on 
the  Bay  was  not  again  alluded  to,  nor  do  I  think  the 
mind  of  any  one  present  reverted  to  it,  when,  Grandpa 
Spicer,  looking  up  with  that  utterly  dazed  and  bewildered 
air,  which  betokened  a  decisive  awakening  on  his  part, 
cast  his  eye  along  the  horizon,  and  observed  gravely : 

"  Storm  a  brewin',  ma." 

"  You  've  been  asleep,  pa,"  said  Grandma  in  sweetly 


CAPE    COD  FOLKS.  893 

mollifying  tones;  and  Emily  Gaskell,  almost  involun 
tarily,  glanced  up  at  me  with  a  mischievous,  anticipative 
wink. 

"Asleep,  ma,"  said  Grandpa  Spicer,  "no,  I  hain't 
be'n  asleep,  neither!  And  what  if  I  had,  ma?  That 
don't  hender  a  storm's  brewin',  does  it?" 

"We've  be'n  seein'  them  little  wind  clouds  passin* 
afore  the  sun  for  half  an  hour  past,"  explained  Grandma 
Spicer  composedly. 

But  Grandpa  scanned  the  sky  with  a  dark,  keen 
glance  —  the  air  of  an  old  voyager  on  stormy  and  literal 
seas,  and  he  shook  his  head,  sagely. 

"  Wall,  wall,  ma,"  he  said,  "  It  don't  make  no  differ 
ence  whether  it's  a  wind  storm  or  a  rain  storm  that  I 
know  on,  but  a  tempest  it's  brewin',  sartin  sure.  I 
remember  once  we  'd  had  a  spell  o*  weather  jest  like  this, 
and  it  begun  to  gether  up  in  the  same  way.  It  was  in 
ihe  same  latitude,  teacher,  same  latitude.  I  was  off 
cruisin*  with  Bob  Henchy — whew  1  that  ar'  was  a  singin* 
gale  !  I  remember  it  as  well  as  yesterday.  I  was  off 
with  Bob—" 

"  Are  you  sure  it  was  Bob  ye  was  off  with,  pa,"  inter 
rupted  Grandma.  "I  could  a'most  write  a  book,  pa, 
while  you  was  tellin'  a  story." 

'•'  Wall,  wall,  ma !  Write  a  book,  if  ye  want  to  !  "  ex 
claimed  Grandpa  with  sweeping  force.  "  I  'm  sure 
nobody  wants  to  hender  yer  writing  a  book  if  ye  want  to, 
ma ! " 

Grandma  Spicer  heeded  not  those  derisive  words 
Her  mind  was  bent  on  pursuits  of  a  far  loftier  and  more 
engrossing  nature.  In  respect  to  the  weather  —  except 
on  Sabbath  mornings  when  it  was  impossible  to  credit 


194  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Grandpa  with  perfect  fairness  and  impartiality  of  judg 
ment —  Grandma,  it  must  be  said,  had  real  faith  in  thr 
old  sea-captain's  prognostications. 

"  It  does  look  like  a  shower,  and  a  mighty  suddefc 
one,"  said  Emily.  She  thrust  her  knitting  work  in  her 
pocket,  donned  her  sun  bonnet,  and  departed  with  other 
chance  occupants  of  the  doorsteps.  And  Grandma  too, 
admitted  the  prospect  of  foul  weather  by  throwing  a 
handkerchief  over  her  head  and  going  out  to  fetch  the 
milk- pans. 

Since  early  spring  Grandma  Spicer  had  put  her  milk- 
pans  to  dry  in  the  sun  on  a  bench  half  way  up  the  "  Pas- 
tur-Hill."  Why  she  should  choose  to  place  them  at  such 
a  seemingly  capricious  and  unnecessary  distance  from 
the  house,  for  it  was  really  no  inconsiderable  journey 
for  Grandma,  taking  into  account  her  peculiar  style  of 
locomotion,  whether  she  considered  that  the  rays  of  the 
morning  sun  visited  them  more  directly  on  that  plane,  or 
that  the  elevation  exposed  them  to  peculiar  atmospheric 
advantages,  these  were  questions  which  the  curious  mind 
was  left  to  solve  for  itself,  for  the  grave  office  of  carrying 
out  and  bringing  in  the  milk-pans  was  performed  by 
Grandma  with  an  air  of  mysterious  calm,  which  admitted 
of  no  profane  comment  or  speculation. 

Abagail  laughed,  watching   her,   the   musical  notes 
ringing  out  with  a  touch  of  insane  gaiety. 

"  If  ma  knew  it  was  Judgment  Day,"  said  she,  "  she'd 
carry  those  milk-pans  up  the  hill  to  dry,  and  if  she  knew 
it  was  Judgment  Hour  she  'd  go  to  fetch  'em." 

The  scene  grew  rapidly  weird  as  the  sky  darkened. 
A  low  sigh,  like  a  premonition,  crept  through  the  heavy 
atmosphere  and  shivered  among  the  peach  blossoms. 


CAPS    C(XZ>    FOLKS.  2% 

The  first  gust  of  wind  seized  Grandma,  returning  with 
the  milk  pans.  It  was  a  zephyr  compared  with  the 
blasts  that  followed,  but  it  had  the  effect  of  giving 
to  that  good  soul's  usually  composed  and  reassuring 
presence,  something  of  the  appearance  of  a  crazy  and 
dismantled  ship,  rolling  in  a  high  sea. 

Grandpa  was  quick  at  detecting  the  resemblance,  and 
hailed  her  approach  in  thrilling  nautical  terms,  such 
as  :  "  why  did  n't  ye  reef  yer  top-gallant,  ma  1"  when  the 
handkerchief  was  torn  off  her  head ;  and  "  hang  to  tht 
main  royal,  ma,"  as  Grandma's  apron  was  caught 
up  and  borne,  wildly  fluttering,  about  her  ears;  and 
"keep  your  ballast,  ma;"  with  frequent  ejaculations 
of  "  lor,  how  she  pitches  !  how  she  pitches  1 " 

These  were  not  thrown  out  as  light  shafts  of  ridicule. 
It  was  no  occasion  for  such.  There  was  an  awful 
earnestness  in  Grandpa  Spicer's  eye  and  in  the  tone 
that  invested  his  words  with  due  solemnity.  Grandma, 
struggling  with  the  wind,  had  not  heard  them.  She  en 
tered  the  Ark,  however,  cheerful  though  panting. 

"Hoggarty  Spicer,"  said  she,  in  accents  of  real 
affection,  "  I  would  n't  have  you  out  in  that  wind  for  no 
money  —  not  for  no  money,  nor  our  teacher,  neither. 
Why,  no  stronger  than  she  is  now,  it  'ud  take  the  breath 
right  out  of  our  teacher's  body  !  Why,  ef  it  had  n't  been 
for  the  cargo  I  had  on  board,  pa,"  continued  Grandma, 
naturally  falling  into  the  same  train  of  ideas  we  had 
followed,  while  watching  her  battle  with  the  elements,  "  I 
should  a'  slipped  moorin's,  sure  !  " 

A  casual  listener  might  have  smiled  at  this,  in  view  of 
Grandma's  substantial  physique. 

Presently  she  said,  as  though  the  thought  had  just 


296  OIPS    COD    FOLKS. 

struck  her,  "  I  hope  fisherman 's  got  back  to  Wallen 
Harbor,  pa." 

"And  if  he  ain't,  ma,"  replied  Grandpa  Spicer, 
sententiously,  "  he  '11  know  what  it  is  to  be  out  in  a 
squall !  but  I  reckon  he's  looked  out  for  himself." 

The  old  captain's  face  grew  graver ;  his  eyes,  in  that 
closed  room,  which  had  grown  so  suddenly  dark,  took  on 
an  intensely  solemn  look.  He  did  not  attempt  the 
narration  of  any  stormy  adventures  of  old.  Perhaps  the 
scenes  of  the  past  rose  too  vividly  before  his  eyes.  But, 
as  the  fiercest  gusts  came,  he  kept  muttering  : 

"I  knew  what  it  meant — mild  winter  on  the  Cape! 
There  's  the  Devil  hi  the  old  Cape  weather,  teacher, 
and  he  never  skipped  four  seasons  yit !  If  it  ain't  one 
time,  it  must  be  another.  Yis,  yis  !  mild  winter  on  the 
Cape,  and  no  March  to  speak  on,  and  a  hurricane  in 
summer  1  Wall,  we  're  both  on  us  right  ma,  and  we  're 
both  on  us  wrong.  It  ain't  neither  wind  nor  rain,  but 
the  heavens  let  loose,  and  God  a'mighty's  own  power 
a  blowin'  of  it.  Yis,  yis !  I  had  my  misgivin's  all 
along ;  thinks  I,  better  a  little  more  weather  now,  than 
to  blast  every  livin'  thing  by  and  by;  but  I  hadn't 
no  idee  o'  this  1  The  Lord  ha'  mercy.  The  Lo"rd  ha1 
mercy  ! " 

For  all  that  one  could  see  through  the  windows  was  a 
great  black  sheet  of  driving  rain,  and  the  roar  of  the 
storm  was  terrible.  The  Ark  shook.  It  seemed,  at  each 
successive  blast,  as  though  the  walls  would  fall  in  over  our 
heads.  One  could  easily  imagine  the  whole  crazy  struc 
ture  borne  onward  before  the  resistless  tempest,  to  take  a 
final  wild  leap  from  the  cliffs. 

"   \Vallencamp 's  a  gittin'  all  mixed  up,"  said  Grandpa, 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  397 

without  the  faintest  tinge  of  humor,  now.  "We  sha'n't 
know  where  to  find  ourselves  when  we  git  out  o'  this  'ere, 
ef  we  ever  do  git  out  on't.  Lord  a'  mercy  !  " 

Abagail   sat  very  white   and  still,   resting  her  chin 
on  her  hands,  her  great  eyes  staring  out. 

Grandma  held  the  two  frightened  children  in  her  lap. 
She  was  rocking  and  singing  to  them  in  a  low,  crooning 
tone.  Though  she  was  pale  and  her  lips  trembled,  there 
was  still  about  her  a  soothing  atmosphere  of  peace. 

I  was  frightened,  like  the  children.  I  longed  to  cry  out 
as  they  had  done  ;  to  bury  my  head  away  from  the  terrors 
somewhere,  as  they  did  in  Grandma's  lap. 

"  That  was  the  blackest  squall,"  said  Grandpa  Spicer, 
afterwards,  "  that  ever  swep'  across  the  Cape  1 " 

Terrible  as  it  had  been,  it  died  quickly.  The  transition 
seemed  miraculous  from  the  sullen  roar  of  the  wind  and 
torrent-fall  of  rain,  to  the  renewed  chirping  of  the  birds, 
the  quiet  dripping  of  the  eaves,  and  sunshine  over  all. 

But  the  young  peach  tree  that  had  stood  by  the 
window  of  the  Ark  and  sent  its  fragrance  into  my 
little  room  above,  lay  prone  upon  the  ground.  When 
she  saw  that,  Grandma  Spicer  moaned  heart-brokenly, 
as  though  it  had  been  some  fair  human  life  stripped  sud 
denly  of  its  promise  and  left  to  wither  fruitlessly. 

There  were  traces  of  the  storm  everywhere.  Trees 
that  had  stood  isolated  in  the  fields  lay,  some  of  them, 
with  roots  exposed ;  others  were  broken  off  at  the 
trunk,  left  with  only  a  branch  or  two,  helpless  figures 
with  outstretched  arms,  to  give  a  weird  desolation  to  the 
landscape  by  and  by,  I  thought  with  a  shudder,  when 
winter  should  come  again  to  Wallencamp. 

The  fences  —  what  remained  of  them  from  former  de- 


298  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

predations — had  either  fallen  utterly  to  the  ground,  or 
assumed  a  strikingly  precarious  position. 

Part  of  the  roof  of  Mr.  Randal's  house  had  been 
blown  off,  and  the  chimneys  of  several  of  the  Wallencamp 
houses  demolished,  and  Grandpa's  barn  twisted  and 
distorted  almost  beyond  recognition. 

That  poor  old  gentleman  put  on  his  hat  and  stepped 
out  of  the  door  cautiously,  looking  about  him  like  one 
in  a  dream. 

The  Ark  had  stood  firm,  apparently,  in  its  old  resting 
place.  Grandma  and  Abagail  proceeded  to  sweep  out 
the  rain  which  had  been  driven  in  through  the  cracks, 
and  then  it  was  that  little  Henry  G.  came  running,  with  a 
white  face,  to  the  door.  He  had  an  air  of  childish 
importance,  too,  as  being  the  first  to  bear  tidings  of 
some  strange  and  dreadful  event,  and  eager  to  hasten  to 
other  doors. 

"Where's  the  rest?"  he  gasped,  seeing  only  me 
in  the  room.  "You  tell  'em,  teacher,  Benney's  drown- 
ded  ! "  and  the  boy  disappeared,  without  another  word. 

I  was  already  faint  from  the  reaction  of  the  excitement 
incident  to  the  storm,  weak  with  the  effort  I  had  made  to 
"  hold  myself  still."  I  heard  Grandma  calling  quickly, 
"Child!  child!"  I  saw  her  coming  towards  me,  and 
then  I  lost  consciousness. 


At  evening,  while  the  sun  went  down  over  the  hill  by 
which  the  transfigured  river  flowed,  Captain  Sartell  sat 
in  the  door  of  the  Ark,  and  told  the  story. 

The  marvellous  light  was  on  his  face,  too.  It  fell,  in 
shafts  of  glory,  on  the  bright  foliage  of  the  fallen  tree. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  299 

Grandma  was  at  Godfrey  Cradlebow's,  but  Grandpa 
Spicer  was  within  the  Ark,  and  Abagail  caressing  her 
children  with  a  new  fondness.  There  were  a  few  of  the 
neighbors  present;  they  looked  neither  frightened  nor 
curious,  but  ineffably  exalted. 

"  We'd  got  our  work  about  done,"  said  Captain  Sar- 
tell,  speaking  mechanically  and  with  little  of  his  customary 
hesitation  of  manner.  "As  near  as  I  calk'late,  there 
wa'n't  a  half  hour's  more  work  to  do  on  the  old  craft, 
and  it  had  got  to  be  sometime  arter  noon,  but  says  the 
boys, '  Let's  finish  her  off,  now  we  Ve  got  so  near  through, 
and  not  have  to  come  back  agin.  They  was  always  a 
cheery  set  —  especially  him  —  when  they  took  hold  of  a 
job,  to  put  it  through. 

"  We  'd  seen  them  sailin'  fellows  go  by  a  while  before ; 
and  we  knew  Turner  was  one  of  'em.  They  was  n't  but 
two,  as  we  could  see,  managin'  the  craft ;  and  they  was 
full  sail,  clippin'  it  lively.  I  calk'late  there  ain't  many 
knows  this  shore  better  'n  me,  but  I  would  n't  a  durst 
skirted  along  the  adge  down  thar  at  sech  a  rate,  not  in 
the  finest  day  bio  win'.  First  we  thought  it  was  some 
body  did  n't  know  what  they  was  about.  When  we  made 
out  it  was  Turner,  we  knew,  if  he  was  drunk,  he  was 
tol'able  well  acquainted  with  the  rocks  along  shore,  and 
'ud  probably  put  further  out  when  he  got  through  showin1 
off.  We  didn't  worry  about  'em,  nor  think  no  more 
afcout  'em,  in  special.  The  boys  didn't  want  to  talk  to 
rile  George  Olver. 

"  So  we  kep'  to  work,  and  in  a  minute,  cheery  agin' 
with  the  hammers  click,  clickin' — and  every  now  and 
then  the  boys  'ud  strike  up  a  singin  something  *  Beyond 
the  River,'  and  '  Home  ward  Bound.1 


300  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

"It  sounded  dredful  purty  down  thar  by  the  water, 
with  the  water  and  the  wideness  all  around  sorter  soft- 
enin'  of  it.  It  made  a  man  feel  curious  and  wishful, 
somehow. 

"  Well,  by  and  by,  him  and  George  Olver  struck  up  a 
song.  I  Ve  heern  'em  sing  it  before,  them  two.  As  nigh 
as  I  calk'late,  it's  about  findin'  rest  in  Jesus,  and  one  a 
askin'  questions,  all  fa'r  and  squar',  to  know  the  way  and 
whether  it 's  a  goin'  to  lead  thar  straight  or  not,  and  the 
other  answerin'.  And  he — he  was  a  tinkerin',  'way  up 
on  the  foremast,  George  Olver  and  the  rest  on  us  was 
astern, —  and  I'll  hear  to  my  dyin'  day  how  his  voice 
came  a  floatin  down  to  us  thar —  chantin'  like  it  was  — 
cl'ar  and  fearless  and  slow.  So  he  asks,  for  findin' 
Jesus,  ef  thar 's  any  marks  to  foller  by ;  and  George  Olver, 
he  answers  about  them  bleedin'  nail  prints,  and  the  great 
one  in  His  side.  So  then  that  voice  comes  down  agin, 
askin'  if  thar's  any  crown,  like  other  kings,  to  tell  Him  by ; 
and  George  Olver,  he  answers  straight  about  that  crown 
o'  thorns.  Then  says  that  other  voice,  floatin'  so  strong 
and  cl'ar,  and  if  he  gin  up  all  and  follered,  what  should  he 
have  ?  what  now  ? 

"  So  George  Olver ,  he  sings  deep  o'  the  trial  and  the 
sorrowin'  But  that  other  voice  never  shook,  a  askin1 
and  what  if  he  helt  to  Him  to  the  end,  what  then  should 
it  be,  what  then  ?  George  Olver  answers :  '  Forever- 
more,  the  sorrowin'  ended  —  Death  gone  over.1 

"  Then  he  sings  out,  like  his  mind  was  all  made 
up,  '  And  if  he  undertook  it,  would  he  likely  be  turned 
away  ? ' 

" '  And  it 's  likelier,'  George  Olver  answers  him, '  That 
heaven  and  earth  shall  pass.' 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  301 

"  So  1  '11  hear  it  to  my  dyin'  day  —  his  voice  a  floatin* 
down  to  me  from  up  above  thar,  somewhar,  askin'  them 
questions  that  nobody  could  ever  answer  like,  so  soon,  he 
answered  'em  for  himself  —  and  when  I  looked  up,  thar 
was  Noah,  with  his  hammer  dropped,  and  his  mouth 
wide  open,  a  starin'  up  thar,  and  the  tears  rollin'  down 
his  cheeks  like  he  was  a  baby. 

"They  didn't  sing  no  more,  after  that.  They  was 
still  for  about  five  minutes,  I  calk'late.  Noah,  he 
was  still,  too;  but  pretty  soon,  he  wakes  up  and  says, 
'  Gad,  boys  !  Did  ye  ever  see  sech  a  queer  look  in  the 
sky?  I  believe  thar  's  a  September  gale  brewin." 

" '  It 's  a  little  wind  storm,  I  reckon,'  says  Bachelder. 
Bachelder  was  settin',  with  his  legs  curled  up  under  him, 
mendin'  sail,  and  he  begun  to  spin  one  o'  them  yarns  o' 
his'n,  with  his  voice  pitched  up  middlin'  high,  and 
the  boys,  they  begun  to  laugh  and  cheer. 

"Then  Noah  says, '  I  '11  run  up  to  head  quarters,  and 
find  out  about  the  weather/  and  clim'  up  the  main  mast 
as  limber  as  a  squirrel,  and  when  he  came  back,  thar 
was  Tommy's  hat  stickin'  way  up  top  o'  the  mast; 
so  Tommy,  he  promised  to  pay  him  —  them  two  was 
always  foolin'  together,  but  good  natered  enough."  The 
captain  introduced  this  little  incident,  in  the  midst  of  his 
narration,  with  a  dull,  pathetic  gravity.  "  It  was  the  last 
thing  we  thought  on,  o'  bein'  fearful,  or  calk'latin'  any 
danger.  We  reckoned  it  was  a  brisk  little  shower  comin' 
up,  may  be,  and  the  boys  was  runnin'  one  another  about 
gittin*  into  the  cabin,  and  runnin'  on  about  the  old  craft. 

"Then  thar  come,  all  of  a  sudden,  sech  a  strange 
feelin,'  as  ef  the  'arth  and  the  water  was  a  tremblin',  and 
a  dreadful  moanin*  sound  runnin'  through  'em.  Seemed 


303  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

as  though  it  came  swirlin'  across  the  bay.    Then  it  bust  on 
us  in  a  fury. 

"  He  was  out,  sorter  lookin*  around  him,  Bachelder 
was,  and  the  wind  took  Bachelder  up,  and  keeled  'im 
over  two  or  three  times  runnin'. 

"  Black  it  grew  as  the  Jedgment  day.  Then  come 
no  sich  rain  as  ever  I  see,  even  the  pourin'est,  but  the 
clouds  fallin'  all  to  once,  and  the  wind  ascatterin*  of  'em, 
and  up  on  the  cliffs,  we  could  jest  hear  a  creakin'  and 
a  bendin'  whar  the  trees  was  turned  as  white  as  ghosts  in 
that  'ere  blackness,  and  the  old  Bay,  in  sech  a  minute, 
was  spinnin'  into  foam. 

"We  was  shelterin'  around  the  old  craft  now,  sure 
enough,  and  nobody  speakin'  a  word,  but  jest  a  holdin' 
our  breaths  a  waitin',  when,  in  among  them  other  noises, 
thar  come,  out  on  the  water,  sech  a  low,  dull  sound  as 
sent  the  awful  truth  on  us  in  a  minute,  and,  for  a  minute, 
that  ar  right  hand  of  mine  was  numb. 

"Then  Noah,  he  had  hold  o'  me,  a  pintin'  out,  and 
whether  he  spoke  a  word  or  not,  I  seen  it — through  wind 
and  rain  and  foam,  all  in  my  eyes  to  once,  I  seen — 
reelin'  and  tossin'  and  pitchin',  out  thar  on  the  Bay,  lost, 
lost  for  sure  —  I  seen  that  fancy  ship  ! 

"Thar  wa'n't  no  hand  on  'arth  could  guide  it,  now. 
Every  second  was  like  to  see  it  keeled  squar'  over, 
or  slipped  and  driv  in  straight  on  to  the  rocks. 

"  We  're  used  to  other  'n  fa'r  weather  along  this  shore. 
I  calk  'late  we  ain't  used  to  frighten  at  a  little  danger,  but 
knowin'  the  sea  so  well,  we  know  the  helplessness 
a'most  o'  puttin'  out  in  sech  a  gale  as  that. 

"I  heerd  the  sound.  It  only  came  but  once;  and 
Seth  hissed  through  his  teeth,  a  cryin'  too,  a'most; 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  303 

'Ain't  thar  no  other  way  to  werry  us,  but  they  must  come 
in  here  to  drown  afore  our  very  eyes  !  A  fool's  ventur*  1 
what  could  ye  expect  but  a  fool's  end !  Ef  he  must 
drown,  let  the  red  haired  devil  drown  ! ' 

"  But  when  they  heered  it,  them  two,  him  and  George 
Olver.  I  knowed  how  it  would  be.  I  hardly  durst 
to  look.  I  seen  them  flash  at  one  another  with  their 
great  eyes,  as  ef  it  wa'n't  enough  to  do  man's  work,  but 
when  thar  come  a  chance,  they  must  go  act  like  God  !  I 
seen  in  jest  that  flash,  them  two  agreein'  solemnly. 

"Then  it  was  all  done  in  a  minute's  space,  like  you'll 
live  yer  life  through  sometimes,  in  a  dream.  They  had 
Bill  Norris's  eight  oar  ready.  They  pushed  us  back. 
They'd  a  gone 'alone,  them  two.  I  kep'  the  third  place. 
Olver  and  Tommy  scuffled,  in  a  breath,  and  Noah,  he 
thrust  Tommy  back,  and  we  was  off. 

"  God  knows  I  never  expected  we  'd  come  back  again. 
You  htern  the  wind.  You  can  calk'late  what  it  was  out 
thar  with  the  rain  a  drivin',  and  the  salt  foam  blowed  into 
our  eyes.  I  calk'late  we  never  fetched  a  harder  pull,  no, 
nor  a  blinder  one. 

"And  she,  the  cursed  thing,  mad  with  twitchin'  at  her 
cable,  lay  over  to  one  side.  But  she  was  dyin'  mad. 
I  tell  ye  she  was  dyin'  mad.  Thar  was  them  two  a 
hangin'  to  her  —  thar  hadn't  be'n  but  them.  So  we 
hauled  Turner  in,  but  that  other  one,  when  he  seen  us, 
the  chance  o'  bein'  saved,  it  crazed  him,  and  he  sent 
up  a  quick,  glad  sort  of  a  yell  and  throwed  his  arms 
out  straight,  and  back  he  fell,  like  lead,  into  the  water. 
And  Turner,  crouchin'  thar  and  shiverin'  '  He  could  n't 
swim  !  He's  sunk  !  he's  sunk  1 '  he  says.  Then  he,  he 
ris  up  in  a  flash,  and  out  he  dove  into  that  hell 


304  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

"Then  come  another  gust,  a  blindin',  blindin*,  blindln*. 
'He  '11  weather  it !  He'll  weather  it !'  George  Olver  kep' 
a  mutterin',  but  his  teeth  was  set ;  his  eyes  shot  through 
me  like  a  tiger's — them  two  was  brothers,  and  more 'n 
brothers,  always.  But  when  thar  come  a  half  lull  so't  we 
could  see,  and  we  looked  out  and  seen  him  risin'  on  the 
wave,  grippin'  that  other  one,  in  spite  o'  hope  I  scurse 
believed  my  eyes,  and  what  a  shout  they  sent  up  from 
that  boat ! 

"Aye,  thar  they  was,  for  sure  but — God,  how  fur 
away !  Not  much  for  common  weather,  but  then  they 
looked  as  fur  to  me  as  arth  from  heaven.  Ef  we  could 
reach  'em  afore  the  next  sweel  come ;  and  every  man,  it 
seemed  as  though  he  put  his  livin'  soul  into  his  arms. 
'Pull !  pull !'  says  George,  and  seemed  to  git  the  strength 
of  seven,  but  still  we  went  too  slow.  We  missed  him  at 
the  oar.  And  he,  he  was  the  strongest  swimmer  that  I 
ever  knowed,  but  who  could  live  in  the  like  o*  that?  We 
pulled  for  life  or  death,  and  that  brave  head  kep'  risin'  on 
the  wave. 

"  Ef  we  could  a  had  another  minute  afore  the  next 
sweel  come  1  George  Olver  felt  it.  He  sent  the  rope 
out  with  a  giant's  throw.  Then  all  and  more  than  we 
could  do  to  hold  the  boat  agin  the  wind.  It  come  so 
fast  ye  scurse  could  see  them  next  ye  in  the  boat. 
'He's  grappled  it!  he's  thar!  he's  thar!'  says  they, 
and  when  they  pulled  it  in,  thar  was  that  other  one  helt 
fast,  and  only  him. 

"  God  knows  !  I  calk'late  he  made  sure  o1  the  other 
first,  and  thar  wa'n't  jest  the  breath's  time  left  for  him, 
blinded  so  sudden  may  be,  and  fell  death  faint.  I  've 
knowed  it  be  so  with  the  strongest ;  no  wonder  thar ;  the 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  305 

wonder  was  in  what  he  done.  He  was  the  strongest 
swimmer  that  I  ever  knowed,  the  strongest  and  the  fear- 
lessest  i 

"George  Olver  never '11  be  content.  He  would  a 
gone  in  after  him.  We'd  be'n  dnv  a  furlong  back,  I 
reckon,  and  every  mark  >vas  lost.  It  'ud  be'n  naught 
but  to  swaller  him,  too.  He  lost  his  sense.  We  had  to 
holt  him  back.  He  raved  thar,  like  a  madman.  It 
blew  a  bitter  spell,  longest  of  all,  and  when  it  helt  a  bit 
so  we  could  take  our  bearin's  some 'at,  what  hope  I  what 
hope  ! 

"  But  poor  George,  of  a  suddint  he  grew  quiet  as  a 
lamb,  and  set  a  lookin'  out,  with  his  hand  light  on  the  oar, 
as  ef  'twas  pleasant  weather,  and  he  could  see  htm  ridin' 
in  thar  easy  on  the  wave ;  and  his  eyes  was  fur  off  and 
smilin',  but  they  looked  as  though  they  died.  Mebbe— 
I  know  no  more. 

"  We  found  him  arterwards.  Thar  wa  n  t  no  mark  nor 
stain  on  him.  You  think  I  talk  dry-eyed.  Go  you  and 
look  at  him.  Somehow  it  don't  leave  ary  breath  for 
cryin'.  It's  like  as  ef  he  knowed.  It's  more  than 
quietness,  seemin*  to  say,  for  all  he  loved  his  life  and 
fou't  so  hard  out  thar,  ter  lose  his  own  at  last — givin' 
or  losin',  he  never  missed  o'  naught  I  he  never  missed 
o'  naught ! 

"I  can't  tell  what's  the  thought  come  nighest  to  ye 
when  ye  look  at  him.  I  hain't  got  high  enough  for  that, 
but  I  can  tell  ye  what's  the  furderest — weepin'  and 
sorrowin'.  Since  I  seen  him  and  my  little  Bessie  fell 
asleep,  please  God  I  die  a  half  so  trustful  or  so  brave, 
I  make  no  fear  o'  death  !" 

The  Captain  sighed  a  long,  ecstatic  sigh  and  rose,  the 


306  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

after-glow  still  shining  on  his  face.  In  passing  through 
the  room,  he  pressed  something  softly  into  my  hand. 

"We  found  it  in  the  breast-pocket  of  his  coat, 
teacher,"  he  said.  "The  coat  lay  in  the  bottom  o'  the 
boat,  and  was  soaked  with  brine.  It  had  your  name 
on't." 

When  I  unfolded  it,  it  was  the  little  star-fish  the 
Cradlebow  had  showed  me,  days  before,  still  foiled 
close  in  its  delicate  vine  wreath. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

GEORGE  OLVER'S  ORAHON. 

I  HE  Wallencampers  gathered  at  the  Ark,  singing 
a  calm  and  high  farewell  to  earth  that  alone 
was  meet  for  the  untroubled  lips  of  that  silent 
singer  in  their  midst. 

They  gathered  at  the  Ark.  No  other  place  seemed  to 
them  sacred  enough  for  such  a  meeting,  now ;  no  other 
place  dear  enough  for  the  celebration  of  such  a  solemn, 
long  farewell. 

Over  the  threshold,  where  he  had  come  so  often 
bounding  in  his  life,  they  brought  the  dead ;  there  was 
the  same  strange  look  of  exaltation  on  their  faces  that  I 
had  noticed  while  Captain  Sartell  told  the  story  of  the 
storm ;  stricken  and  white,  the  poor  faces,  yet  touched 
with  some  daring,  unutterable  hope  —  so  clear  a  message 
they  read  on  that  wondrously  still  and  reconciled  face,  so 
without  fear  the  dead  lips  spoke  to  them. 

To  me,  the  message  was  one  of  infinite  pathos  and 
rebuke,  speaking  of  a  heroism  beyond  my  poor  conception, 
of  a  height  of  glory  of  which  I  had  not  dreamed. 


808  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"Farewell,  forevermore,"  the  fathomless  far  voice 
murmured  to  my  despair,  and  slowly  and  repeatedly, 
"  Farewell,  forevermore.  1  am  beyond  the  need  of  your 
poor  love." 

And  my  heart  turned  to  stone,  with  all  the  passionate, 
pure  sorrow  that  might  have  been,  the  tears  in  which 
I  might  have  found  relief. 

Granuma  Spicer's  sacred  "keepin'  rooms"  were 
open  d  wide  for  the  reception  of  this  guest,  yet  the 
sunshine  stole  in  with  a  hallowed  light,  the  entering 
breeze  sighed  low  and  softly.  The  children,  always 
present,  were,  on  this  occasion,  attentively  still. 

There  were  no  external  signs  of  woe  for  the  poor  Wallen 
campers  to  assume  ;  they  made  no  mad  demonstrations 
of  their  grief;  the  suffering  and  the  wonder  were  too 
deep. 

Lydia — they  all  knew  how  she  had  loved  this  son. 
When  they  returned  from  their  perilous  quest  in  the 
storm,  the  first  words  Captain  Sartell  said  were,  "  Who 
must  go  up  now,  and  break  Lyddy's  heart  ?  " 

She  stood  among  the  others,  very  still,  the  old  faded 
mantilla  folded  decently  over  her  shoulders,  the  great 
dark  eyes,  his  eyes,  shining  out  even  kindly  from  the 
worn  face  on  those  who  came  to  speak  to  her. 

Godfrey  Cradlebow  stood  at  the  outer  door,  and 
addressed  the  people  as  they  entered.  Some  said,  after 
wards,  that  he  had  been  drinking ;  others  declared  he  had 
not  touched  a  drop  for  days. 

In  the  room  where  I  stood,  I  heard  his  musical, 
deep  tones  now  swelling  with  the  fervor  of  his  harangue, 
now  broken  and  trembling  with  emotion. 

"  Enter,  my  friends  1 "  said  this  strange  man.    "  Go  in, 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  309 

and  look  on  quietness.  What  do  we  seek  for  most, 
my  friends  ?  LOOK  out  on  the  world.  It 's  a  whole  world 
of  seekers.  How  they  jostle  against  one  another  !  how 
they  sweat !  how  they  strive  !  how  they  toil !  and  why  all 
this?  What  seek  they  for?  For  quietness,  my  friends, 
even  so  —  the  quietness  of  wealth  to  gain,  may  be,  or 
competence ;  may  be,  the  quietness  of  some  renown. 
And  some  go  seeking  over  land  and  sea  for  their  lost 
health,  and  quietness  from  pain. 

"  My  friends,  within  there  was  as  restless  a  seeker  as  I 
ever  knew.  Pity  the  old,  my  friends,  but  pity  more  the 
young  !  Never  such  dream?  of  rest !  Never  such  rest 
lessness  !  Hush  !  when  he  heard,  he  answered  well.  He 

* 

put  all  by.  Somehow,  we  think  he  has  obtained — 
wealth,  honor,  perfect  health.  My  friends,  pass  in  1  be 
hold  this  wonder ! 

"My  friends,  you  look  up  at  the  sky.  Ah,  what  a 
sky !  purple  and  deep  !  Yet  I  see  something  in  your 
eyes  that  is  not  quietness  ;  for  storms  will  come,  too  well 
you  know,  and  the  cold  blasts  of  winter ;  but  if  you  knew 
that  never  any  sorrowful,  hard  wind  could  sweep  across 
yon  blue — then,  my  friends,  you  would  look  as  he  looks 
who  lies  within  there.  Pass  in  !  pass  in  !  behold  this 
wonder." 

Within,  Grandma  Spicer  stood  with  closed  eyes  and 
folded  hands.  Her  cheeks  were  wet.  She  wore  a 
heavenly,  trustful  expression  of  countenance.  Her  lips 
moved  as  if  in  prayer. 

Aunt  Susannah  Cradlebow  rose  in  her  place— 
majestic  and  weird  she  looked,  like  some  old  Eastern 
prophetess,  a  grand  forecasting  in  her  shadowy  eyes. 

"Gather  in  the  sheaves,"    she   began,   "the  bright 


810  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

sheaves,  early  ripe  and  ready  for  the  harvestin' ;  and  be 
grudge  not  the  Master  of  His  harvestin'.  Why,  oh 
Lord,  Lord,  this  sheaf,  while  there  be  them  that  stand, 
late  harvest  day,  bowed  and  witherin'  in  the  cornfield? 
Because  He  reckons  not  o'  time.  Glory,  glory  to  the 
Lord  o'  the  harvestin'  !  But  gether  in  for  me,  He  says, 
my  bright  sheaves,  early  ripe  !  my  sheaves  o'  the  golden 
wine  ! 

"  It  was  the  night  but  two  before  my  grandson  died,  I 
seen  a  death  sign  in  a  dream,  and  so  I  speaks  to  my 
son's  wife,  but  '  Fear  you  not,'  I  says  ;  'it  was  the  blessed 
sign  o' blessed  death;'  and  thought  o'  some  one  old 
and  helpless,  sick  maybe,  gettin'  release  thereby.  Why 
this  sheaf,  oh  Lord? — Glory,  glory  to  the  Lord  o'  the 
harvestin'  !  For  I  dreamt  there  was  a  bird  ketched  in 
my  room,  and  flutterin'  here  and  there,  and  beatin' 
'ginst  the  window  with  its  wings.  And  dreamin'  I  ris  up, 
and  there  was  such  a  light  along  the  floor  as  never  any 
moonlight  that  I  see  was  half  so  solemn  or  so  beautiful. 
But  when  I  stretched  my  hand  to  free  the  poor,  blind, 
flutterin'  bird,  it  ris  away  from  me,  and  spread  its  wings, 
snow-white,  and  out  it  flew,  and  sharp  and  clear  along 
that  shinin'  track.  Then  when  I  woke,  I  knew  it  was  the 
sign  o'  blessed  death,  nor  ever  feared.  And  God  will 
bear  me  true,  it  was  the  very  night  they  brought  my 
grandson  home  that,  lyhr  down  to  rest  a  while  from 
watchin'  with  the  rest,  nor  ever  wonderin'  nor  layin'  it  to 
mind  what  I  had  dreamed  afore,  but  tired  and  heart-broke 
only,  I  seen  the  long,  bright  shinin'  track  agin',  a  pourin' 
through  the  window  ;  and  '  My  son's  son  ! '  I  cries,  '  dear 
boy  !  dear  boy  ! '  —  for  it  was  like  him  playin'  on  his 
violin — *  What  tunes  must  be,'  I  cries,  'that  you  play  so, 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  311 

and  scarce  a  day  in  heaven  ! '  But  when  I  ris  up,  callin', 
it  grew  dim  along  the  track,  and  thar  was  mornin'  in  the 
room,  and  then  I  heered  them  cryin'  where  they  watched 

"  Why  this  sheaf,  oh  Lord  ?  —  gether  in  the  sheaves,  ob 
Lord,  the  bright  sheaves,  early  ripe  and  ready  for  the 
harvestin'.  Glory,  glory  to  the  Lord  o'  the  harvestin1 ! " 

Then  the  Wallencampers  sang  tremblingly  of  the 
"Harvest  Home."  They  were  glad  when  they  saw 
George  Olver  stand  up  in  their  midst  —  George  Olver, 
least  subject  of  them  all  to  dreams  or  ecstasies,  but  with 
his  slow,  labored  speech,  and  his  sorrowful,  bowed  head. 
He  took  his  place  beside  the  coffin  of  his  friend,  looked 
gently  at  that  face,  and  squared  his  shoulders  for  a 
moment  then,  and  held  his  head  with  the  old  manly  air : 

"When  Uncle  'Lihu  died,"  said  he,  "my  friend  and 
me  walked  home  together  from  the  funeral,  and  Benney 
says  to  me  :  '  I  want  you  to  promise  me,  George,  that  if  I 
shed  die,  you  would  n't  have  that  man  to  preach  over  me,' 
meanin'  the  minister,  though  he  was  kindly  to  him,  '  and 
he 'means  well,'  says  he,  '  but  he  don't  understand  us ;  he 
knows  naught  about  us  'ceptin'  that  now  we  're  dead,  and 
not  bein'  used  to  them  long  texts  o'  hisn,  it  frets  our 
folks,'  says  he.  *  They  weary  on 't,  so  long  a  string  they 
har'ly  understand ;  but  I  would  rather,'  Benney  says, '  have 
home  one  amongst  my  folks  that  knowed  me  well,  git  up 
and  speak,  ef  it  was  only :  This  was  my  friend  lies  here  ; 
I  loved  him.  And  promise  me,  George,  ef  I  shed  die, 
you  'd  hev  no  stranger  preachin'  over  me,  but  speak  some 
such  easy  words  yourself  for  love  o'  me.'  And  I  felt  with 
him  thar,  and  promised  him,  and  he  me ;  but  I  remember 
thinkin',  as  I  looked  at  him,  it 's  little  likely  I  '11  ever 
stand  above  your  grave. 


311  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

"  Enough  said.  '  This  was  our  friend  lies  here.  We 
loved  him.'  We  thank  him  for  them  words.  Better  nor 
more,  they  cl'ar  it  all  up  on  this  side  twixt  him  and  us. 
No  need  ter  tell  o'  what  he  was,  or  what  he  done.  'Tain't 
likely  we'll  forgit.  He  didn't  say  ter  praise  him.  He 
wanted  none  o'  that,  but  jest  we  knowed  and  loved  him — 

"  And  so  it  might  a'  been  enough,  but  now,  my  God  ! 
my  God  !  as  I  stand  here  aside  o'  him,  he  bids  me,  plain 
as  day,  to  speak  a  word  beyent ;  ef  I  could  only  name  it, 
ef  I  could  only  name  it,  what  looks  so  cl'ar  and  beautiful 
thar  on  his  face. 

"  '  Hold  strong  '  he  says,  '  below  thar.  Keep  heart  and 
make  cl'ar  reckonin',  for  it's  losin'  all  may  be,  in  this 
'ere  mystery,  makes  cl'arest  gain  o'  all.  There  's  fairer 
day  to  rest  ye  arter  storm.  All 's  well !  all 's  well ! '  he 
says,  '  all 's  well  beyent.  .  11  's  well  along  this  shore  ! '  " 

Here  George  Giver's  husky  voice  failed  him;  sobs 
rose  in  the  room. 

Then  the  "  farewell "  was  sung,  and  bravely ;  but 
at  the  last,  I  heard  only  Abagail's  voice,  it  grew 
so  surpassingly  clear  and  sweet;  it  seemed  to  float 
solitary  in  the  room,  and  to  play  triumphantly  about 
the  silent  sleeper's  lips — the  voice,  indeed,  of  a  free 
spirit  in  its  bliss,  thrilled  only  with  some  plaintive 
memory  of  human  woe  and  loss. 


"  Farewell,  ye  dreams  of  night ; 

Jesus  is  mine  1 
Lost  in  this  dawning  bright; 

Jesus  is  mine  1 
All  that  my  soul  has  tried, 
Left  but  a  dismal  void  ; 
Jesus  has  satisfied. 

Jewi 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  tlS 

Farewell,  mortality ; 

Jesus  Is  mine  1 
Welcome,  eternity. 

Jesus  is  mine! 

Welcome,  the  lored  and  blertl 
Welcome,  bright  scenes  of  rest  • 
Welcome,  my  Sariour's  breast 
Jesus  is  mine  I" 

Scarcely  had  the  leaves  of  the  fallen  peach  tree  by  the 
window  begun  to  wither,  when  the  strong  bearers  passed 
out  with  their  beautiful,  stainless  burden,  while  slowly, 
reverently,  the  little  community  of  mourners  followed 
*o  the  grave. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

FAREWELL  TO   WALLENCAMP. 

|ET  another  week  passed  in  Wallencamp  before  I 
was  aWe  to  complete  the  preparations  for  my 
departure. 

One  day,  I  set  myself  with  a  sort  of  listless  fidelity 
to  the  summing  up  of  my  accounts.  I  found,  on  de 
ducting  the  amount  of  my  actual  expenses  from  the 
sum  total  of  my  earnings  in  Wallencamp,  that  I  had 
sixty-two  cents  left ! 

The  revelation  caused  me  some  surprise;  strangely 
Jttle  perturbation  of  spirit.  I  thought  what  tragic  tales 
might  sometimes  lie  hidden  beneath  a  seemingly  dry  and 
senseless  combination  of  figures,  while,  in  my  own  case,  I 
was  merely  struck  with  the  justice  of  those  figures. 

For  such  eccentric  and  distracted  services  as  I  had 
rendered  in  Wallencamp,  the  superintendent  of  schools 
had  paid  me  in  full  at  the  price  stipulated,  eight  dollars 
per  week. 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  315 

On  the  other  hand,  the  column  of  insolvency,  I 
Considered  that  the  West  Wallen  Doctor's  bill  was  an 
expression  of  modesty  itself.  The  sum  due  my  dear 
Abagail  for  "  board  "  at  two  dollars  and  a  half  per  week, 
though  I  trusted  it  was  some  compensation  for  the  merely 
temporal  advantages  to  be  enjoyed  in  Ketfarville,  did  not 
appear  as  an  astounding  aggregate.  The  list  of  "  minor 
details  "  was  well  portrayed,  and  presented  an  aspect  of 
clear  use  and  value. 

My  once  fond  dream  of  a  "  private  bank  account " 
had  gradually  faded  from  my  memory.  I  saw  the  last 
spar  in  that  fair  wreck  go  down,  now,  without  a  sigh. 
And  the  "  loans  solicited,"  in  labored  phrase,  as  "  mere 
temporary  conveniences  "  from  the  friends  at  home  — 
these,  I  was  satisfied,  must  remain  only  as  the  sweet 
continuation  of  a  life-long  debt.  But  how  was  I  to  get 
home? 

The  combined  fares  on  that  route,  I  remembered,  had 
amounted  to  something  over  nine  dollars  1  So  the 
question  haunted  me,  not  restlessly,  but  with  a  vague, 
tranquil,  melancholy  interest,  as  pertaining  to  the  history 
of  some  one  who  had  lived  and  died  a  few  years  before ; 
so  long  indeed,  it  seemed  to  me,  since  I  had  performed 
the  journey  to  Wallencamp. 

I  had  not  written  home  as  to  the  day  of  my  probable 
arrival,  in  this  yielding  passively  to  the  force  of  habit, 
which  had  ever  constrained  me  to  plan  my  returns  as 
"  surprises  "  to  my  family  and  friends. 

But  for  myself,  I  had  fixed  the  day  of  my  departure 
from  Wallencamp  and,  in  spite  of  the  discovery  made  in 
regard  to  the  insufficient  state  of  my  finances,  looked 
forward  to  that  event  without  any  trepidation,  so  that, 


31«  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

I  remember  —  it  was  actually  the  day  before  the  one 
fixed  on,  and  still  no  hope  had  dawned  on  the 
financial  horizon  —  when  Grandma  Spicer  embraced 
me  with  some  tender  words  premonitory  of  our  parting, 
I  kissed  her  gratefully,  musing  at  the  same  time  in 
dreamy,  untroubled  fashion:  "yes,  I  must  be  going 
home  to-morrow." 

It  was  on  this  same  day  that  we  drove  to  "Wallen 
Town,"  Grandma  and  Abagail  and  Ethel  and  I.  The 
excursion  was  one  Grandma  had  planned  several  weeks 
before,  and  I  had  no  intention  of  making  it  the  oppor 
tunity  which  I  finally  did. 

As  we  were  passing  a  dingy  looking  establishment, 
where  some  doubtful  articles  of  virtu  appeared  in  the 
window,  an  idea  seized  me,  as  new  as  it  was  compre 
hensive  of  my  difficulties. 

I  went  in,  ostensibly  to  purchase  a  watch  key,  really  to 
engage  in  negotiations  of  a  more  serious  and  complicated 
nature. 

The  proprieter  of  the  shop  became  the  temporary 
guardian  of  my  watch,  while  I  was  invested  with  the  funds 
necessary  for  my  homeward  journey. 

I  learned,  afterwards,  that  this  man  had  made  an 
exception  in  the  usually  limited  range  of  his  operations  in 
my  favor,  his  establishment  not  being,  by  any  means,  that 
of  a  pawn-broker,  but,  in  every  sense,  of  the  most  highly 
moral  and  respectable  nature. 

He  gave  me  such  "  ready  cash  "  as  his  coffers  would 
yield,  with  an  improvised  pawn-broker's  check,  at  the 
composition  of  which  we  had  both  seriously  and  in 
geniously  labored.  I  can  testify  both  to  his  honesty  and 
obligingness.  He  insisted  on  my  taking  with  me, 


CAPE    COD  FOLKS.  317 

"jest  to  tell  the  time  o'  day,"  a  very  large  watch,  in  a 
tarnished  silver  case. 

Not  wishing  to  seem  to  cast  any  disparagement  on  his 
wares,  I  became  the  helpless  recipient  of  this  favor.  The 
article  in  question  was  far  too  large  for  my  watch-pocket, 
And  had  a  persistent  habit  of  holding  its  mouth  wide 
open  like  a  too  weary  shell-fish.  On  the  interior  of  the 
case,  one  on  either  side,  were  pasted  photographs  of 
individuals  to  me  unknown,  male  and  female,  their  coun 
tenances  such  as  the  blinded  eye  of  affection  alone,  I 
thought,  could  have  rendered  mutually  entertaining,  and 
the  watch  maintained,  on  all  occasions,  a  system  of 
chronology  peculiarly  its  own. 

As  we  drove  back  to  Wallencamp,  Grandma  Spicer, 
her  great  heart  close  to  Nature  that  sunny  afternoon,  be 
guiled  the  way  with  a  gentle  hilarity  which  never  shocked 
or  offended,  but  Ethel  put  her  hand  often  in  mine,  look 
ing  up  with  the  old  helpless,  pleading  expression  in  her 
eyes  —  Ethel,  I  knew,  would  remember  longest. 

Sometimes,  as  my  hand  wandered  almost  unconsciously 
to  caress  the  precious  coin  in  my  pocket,  instead  of  the 
wild  tract  of  stunted  cedars  through  which  our  road  lay, 
I  fancied  I  saw  the  great  elms  of  Newton,  the  wide 
straight  street,  the  familiar  house,  an  open  door,  and  — 
ah  !  it  wasn't  the  first  time  that  I  had  been  taken  in  at 
that  door,  the  survivor  of  wrecked  ambition  and  mis 
guided  hope,  only  to  hear  my  shortcomings  made  ten 
derly  light  of,  my  most  desperate  follies  lovingly  ignored 
and  forgiven. 

But  I  had  meant  that  it  should  be  so  different  this  time  ! 
I  had  gone  out  as  a  missionary ;  and  deeper  than  ever  in 
my  consciousness,  I  must  feel  the  want  and  woe  of  the 


818  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

returning  prodigal ;  the  same  old  story,  the  ever  recurring 
failure.  It  seemed  as  though  all  the  wonder  and  impa 
tience  might  well  go  out  of  my  despair. 

Then  as  I  lent  myself  more  and  more*  to  the  contem 
plation  of  that  home  picture,  how  restful,  and  happy  it 
grew!  but  poor  old  Wallencamp  —  for  we  were  nearing 
the  little  settlement  now,  and  the  sun  was  fast  westering 
—  poor,  squalid,  solitary,  beautiful,  Wallencamp,  as  I 
looked  down  upon  it  from  the  brow  of  Stony  Hill,  thrilled 
me  with  a  troubled  sense  of  some  diviner,  some  half- 
comprehended  glory. 

The  crimson  glow  had  not  quite  faded  in  the  sky  when 
I  took  my  last  walk  across  the  fields  to  where  the  new 
grave  had  been  made  on  the  hillside.  This  is  the  new 
burying  ground  of  the  Wallencampers  ;  the  old  one  lies 
a  mile  farther  up  the  river,  near  the  Indian  encampment. 
Here  I  saw  more  than  one  simple  slab,  bearing  the  name 
of  Cradlebow.  Here  little  Bess  lies,  too.  The  hill, 
meet  for  such  sublime  repose,  looks  ever  calmly  on  the 
humble,  straggling  homes  of  the  Wallencampers  below, 
and  sees  the  lonely  river  winding  near,  and  hears,  by 
night  and  day,  the  monody  of  deeper  waters. 

I  thought  the  voice  of  that  great  ocean  of  restlessness 
sounding  along  the  shore  might  quiet  my  unrest,  but  the 
beat  of  the  waves,  the  growing  gloom  of  that  still  evening 
hour,  oppressed  me  with  a  feeling  unutterably  sad. 
I  could  not  bear  it,  at  last.  It  seemed  as  though 
another  deep  was  rising  and  breaking  in  my  heart, 
the  flood  of  proud,  half-stifled  passion  waking  in  one 
awful  moment  to  overwhelm  me.  No  light  upon  that 
sea  —  but  hope  wronged,  the  mockery  of  death  for  yearn 
ing  love,  the  unguided  clash  of  drifting  human  lives  1 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  319 

An  agony  of  blindness  swam  before  my  eyes.  I  felt 
my  weak  hands  clutching  at  the  grass,  and  gasped,  as 
though  it  had  been  indeed  in  the  blindness  and  pain 
of  physical  death,  the  prayer  wrung  from  my  selfish 
Deed.  But  the  answer  was  of  infinite  love  and  compas 
sion.  It  came  to  me  then  —  not  as  some  grave  revelation 
of  ',nith  to  the  "  enlightened  seeker,"  but  like  the  kiss  of 
peace  to  a  tired  child,  a  door  mysteriously  opened  to  the 
self-bound  captive,  to  one  ignorant  the  light  shining 
along  a  plain,  straight  way.  And  the  doubt  and  terror 
and  anguish  went  out  of  the  world ;  even  the  sorrowless 
farewell  of  frozen  lips  changed  to  tender  benediction. 

When  I  looked  up  at  last,  wondering,  peaceful,  my 
face  wet  with  happy  tears,  the  stars  had  come  out  in 
the  sky  and,  down  below,  the  windows  of  the  Ark 
were  shining.  The  faint  murmur  of  a  song  was  borne  up 
to  me.  The  Wallencampers  had  gathered  at  the  Ark  to 
celebrate  our  last  "  meeting  "  together,  and  1  went  down 

to  join  them. 

****** 

At  what  ghostly  hour  of  the  next  morning  Grandma 
Spicer  awoke  Grandpa  to  the  unusual  exigencies  of 
the  occasion,  I  cannot  say.  It  was  necessary  for  me  to 
start  very  early  from  the  Ark  to  take  the  train  at  West 
Wallen,  but  when  I  descended  the  stairs,  by  candle 
light,  Grandpa  Spicer  had  been  already  washed  and 
dyed  and  arrayed,  as  for  the  Sabbath,  in  his  best. 
Yes,  and  I  was  constrained  to  believe  that  he  had  even 
been  instructed  in  the  mysteries  of  Sunday  school  lore, 
for  there  was  about  him  an  air  of  haggard  and  feverish 
excitement,  and  he  glared  at  my  familiar  presence  with 
wild,  unseeing  eyes. 


520  CAPE    JOD    FOLKS. 

Memorable  were  the  colloquies  held  that  morning 
between  Grandma  and  Grandpa  Spicer;  Grandpa's 
tragic  assumption  of  manly  consequence,  and  solemn 
fears  lest  we  should  miss  the  train,  directed  in  astute 
syllables  of  warning  towards  Grandma  Spicer ;  Grand 
ma's  increased  deliberation,  and  imperturbable  quietude 
of  soul. 

I  recall  the  strange,  unearthly  aspect  of  the  scenes 
enacted  in  the  Ark  at  that  early  hour,  the  fleeting  vision  of 
a  morning  repast  which  formed  some  accidental  part  in 
the  chaos  of  vaster  proceedings. 

Then  when  the  first  faint  signs  of  dawn  were  beginning 
to  break  through  the  grey  in  the  eastern  sky,  I  bade  fare 
well  to  the  Ark  forever,  lingering  a  moment  on  the 
old  familiar  door-step  for  a  last  word  with  those  of 
the  neighbors  who  had  gathered  there  to  see  us  off,  for  the 
whole  Spicer  family  accompanied  me  to  the  station. 

There  were  others  waiting  at  the  gate  to  say  good-bye 
and  at  various  posts  all  the  way  down  the  lane.  At 
the  big  white  house  Emily  came  running  out,  breathless. 
She  whispered  hurriedly  in  my  ear,  "  There  was  a 
message  left.  Ye  was  n't  well.  I  reckon  'twas  a  message. 
When  fisherman  and  that  other  one  came  up  from 
the  shore,  day  o'  the  storm,  he  came  to  our  house  for  Jim 
to  take  him  to  Wallen.  He  said  it  was  better  to  be 
the  dead  one  than  him.  He  was  awful  white,  and  Jim 
got  harnessed,  and  just  as  fisherman  was  goin'  out, 
he  left  a  message  along  o'  me,  though  there  wa'n't 
no  names  mentioned,  and  he  talked  queer;  but  he 
wanted  as  somebody  should  know  that  he  realized  it  all 
now,  and  he  could  n't  make  up  for  it,  never ;  but  it 
was  go'n'  to  be  new  or  nothin'  for  him,  and  they  shouldn't 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  321 

want  for  nothin',  never,  and  kep'  a  sayin'  more,  and 
no  message,  exactly,  as  ye  could  call  a  message,  but  I 
reckoned  —  I  thought  —  may  be " 

Emily's  glowing  eyes,  fixed  on  my  face,  grew  very  wide 
aiid  grave.  I  could  only  press  her  hand  in  parting,  for 
Grandpa,  growing  impatient,  had  succeeded  in  clucking 
Fanny  on  again. 

We  drove  along  the  river  road,  and,  passing  through  the 
Indian  encampment,  there  were  more  good-byes  ex 
changed  by  the  roadside. 

Then  climbing  up  "  Sandy  Slope,"  beyond  the  settle 
ment,  we  heard  the  shrill  "  Hullo  ! "  of  a  familiar  voice, 
and  looking  back,  saw  Bachelor  Rae  running  after  us 
very  swiftly,  his  head  destitute  of  covering,  and  his  little 
wizened  face  glowing  red  as  the  celestial  Mars  in  the  dis 
tance.  He  looked  like  some  odd,  fantastic  toy  that  had 
been  wound  up  and  set  going. 

So  he  came  up  with  us,  and  trying  to  conceal  his 
breathlessness  in  polite  little  "  hms  and  haws,"  delivered 
aside,  he  offered  me  a  huge  bouquet  composed,  1  should 
think,  of  every  sort  of  wild  flower  available  on  the  Cape 
at  that  season,  and  showing,  in  its  arrangement,  marks  of 
the  most  arduous  striving  after  artistic  effect.  In  the 
other  hand,  he  held  out  to  me  a  basket  of  large,  selected 
boxbemes. 

1  accepted  the  gifts  with  unaffected  "delight,  and 
thanked  Bachelor  Rae  warmly.  J  looked  back  at  him, 
trudging  cheerfully  homeward  through  the  sand,  so  with 
ered  and  small,  with  the  grey  in  his  hair,  and  his  coat  so 
much  too  long  for  him  —  back  to  the  poor  brown  house, 
which  no  tender  love  had  ever  hallowed,  or  merry  wait 
ing  laugh  made  bright  for  him ;  and  I  wondered,  along 


322  CAPS    COD    FOLKS. 

his  life's  way  which  looked  so  sad  and  desolate,  what  hid 
den  wild  flowers  God  had  strewed  for  him,  that  he  seemed 
always  so  humbly  cheerful  and  content,  and  brought  his 
best  of  offerings  with  a  smile  to  bless  the  happier  lot  of 
Others. 

For  the  rest  of  the  way,  the  wild  untenanted  stretch 
was  unbroken  by  any  incident;  yet  I  remember  no 
tedium  by  the  way ;  and  I  believe  that  a  trip  taken  with 
Grandma  and  Grandpa  Spicer  through  the  most  trackless 
desert  would  inevitably  have  been  made  to  teem  with 
diversion.  Those  blessed  souls  !  I  smile,  looking  back, 
but  through  tears,  and  with  a  reverence  and  tenderness 
far  deeper  than  the  smile. 

By  the  time  we  reached  the  West  Wallen  dep6t,  the 
sky  had  clouded  over. 

"A  little  shower  comin'  up,"  Grandma  said,  but 
Grandpa  shook  his  head  and  prophesied  "  a  long,  stiddy 
spell  o'  weather." 

I  persuaded  my  friends  not  to  wait  with  me  for  the 
arrival  of  the  train  which,  owing  to  some  discrepancy  in 
the  matter  of  time  between  Wallencamp  and  West  Wai  - 
len,  would  not  be  due  for  an  hour  or  more. 

I  watched  them  out  of  sight,  the  last  of  myWallen- 
camp  !  How  deeply,  how  utterly  it  had  grown  into  my 
life,  so  that  now,  in  spite  of  the  secret,  glad  exultation  I 
felt  at  the  thought  of  going  home,  my  heart  went  running 
out  after  that  quaint,  receding  vehicle,  and  aching 
sensibly. 

On  board  the  train  at  last,  I  began  to  experience  some 
thing  of  the  sensation  of  one  who  awakens  from  long 
sleep  to  the  half-forgotten  ways  of  men  and  life  with  a 
vague,  untroubled  wonder  as  to  the  latest  styles  in  dress ; 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  323 

or,  like  a  traveller  from  a  strange  country,  weary,  and  way 
worn,  and  out  of  date,  who  yet  can  smile  hugging  in  his 
breast  the  happy  secret  of  boundless  wealth  in  the  gold 
mine  he  has  discovered  far  away. 

I  had  neither  umbrella,  portmanteau,  nor  shawl-strap ; 
such  ordinary  paraphernalia  of  travel  I  remembered 
once  to  have  possessed,  and  tried  in  vain  to  recall  the 
particular  occasions  on  which  they  had  been  wrecked  in 
Wailencamp.  I  bore  with  me  my  bouquet,  my  basket  of 
boxberries,  some  small  cedar  trees  for  transplanting,  and 
half  of  the  largest  clam  shell  the  shores  of  Cape  Cod  had 
ever  produced  ;  this  last  a  parting  gift  from  N  nel  Norris. 

I  was  far  from  being  troubled  with  the  consciousness  of 
anything  quaint  or  bizarre  in  my  appearance.  I  felt  no 
mortification  on  account  of  these  treasures  so  intrinsically 
dear  to  my  heart ;  but  Grandma  Spicer  had  insisted  on 
binding  a  mustard  paste  on  my  chest.  It  was  a  parting 
request  —  I  could  not  have  refused — but  in  the  close  air 
of  the  car,  the  physical  torture  began  to  be  extreme. 
Tears  fell  on  the  cedar  spray  at  my  side,  yet  was  I 
withal  strangely,  peacefully  happy. 

It  was  raining  when  I  passed  through  Boston.  Once 
more  in  the  dm  of  a  city,  jolting  noisily  over  the  rough 
uneven  pavements,  I  found  myself  wondering  continually 
if  the  Spicers  had  reached  home,  and  imagining  how  the 
rain  was  falling  gently,  quietly,  on  the  roof  of  the  Ark. 

At  the  next  stage,  at  Hartford,  1  was  half  afraid  that  I 
should  meet  brother  or  sister  or  some  member  of  the 
family,  and  so  have  the  complete  effect  of  my  "  surprise" 
destroyed;  but  I  saw  none  of  them.  There  were  few 
passengers  on  board  the  Newton-bound  train.  It  was 
raining  still.  I  was  growing  more  and  more  glad  at  heart 


324  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

and  looking  out  with  my  arm  pressed  against  the  window, 
when  I  heard  a  voice  right  over  me  —  a  soft,  pitiful,  thrill 
ing  exclamation : 

"  Great  Heavens  ! " 

I  looked  up  and  saw  John  Cable. 

He  sank  slowly  down  into  the  seat  in  front  of  me  and, 
for  a  moment,  neither  of  us  spoke.  I  did  not  mind 
meeting  John.  I  had  not  thought  of  including  him  in 
the  surprise.  The  sight  of  his  familiar,  friendly  face  gave 
me  a  positive  thrill  of  pleasure,  but  there  was  something 
in  his  manner  that  kept  me  silent. 

I  said  :     "  I  'm  going  to  surprise  them,  John." 

There  was  nothing  offensive  in  the  grave,  swift  glance 
with  which  John  Cable  then  took  me  in,  me  and  my  bou 
quet  of  wilted  wild  flowers  and  my  small  cedar  trees,  only 
a  slow,  solemn  distinctness  in  his  tone. 

"  You  will  succeed,"  he  said.  "  Undoubtedly  you  will 
succeed." 

Still  I  felt  no  resentment.  A  gentle,  sorrowful  perplex 
ity  filled  my  breast. 

"Why,  do — I  —  look — very — very — unusual,  John?" 
I  questioned,  and  looking  hi  his  face  I  wondered  why,  hi 
the  old  days  of  careless  jest  and  repartee,  he  had  never 
seemed  so  moved. 

More  words  he  said,  but  I  could  not  bear  them  then, 
and  tears  from  an  inward  pain  fell  on  the  cedar  spray,  yet 
I  was  glad  that  I  had  not  grown  so  unusual  that  people 
would  never  like  me  any  more. 

Next,  the  surprise  was  a  success,  as  John  Cable  had 
predicted,  but  that  was  the  one  point  in  my  career  in 
which  my  genius  had  never  failed  me.  My  surprises, 
though  inclined  to  take  something  of  the  nature  of  an 


CAPS    COD    FOLKS.  826 

accumulation  of  calamities,  had  never  lacked  the  great 
element  of  awe-producing  wonder. 

For  the  rest,  I  had  known  that  I  should  be  forgiven,  and 
received  with  the  usual  eclat  of  the  returned  prodigal  into 
the  family  bosom  —  but  to  be  held  up  on  successive  days 
as  an  object  of  ever  increasing  marvel  and  interest,  as  one 
whose  words  and  acts  were  endowed  with  a  peculiar 
significance,  as  the  light  of  the  social  fireside,  the 
enchanter  of  small  spell-bound  audiences !  Well,  I 
had  been  spoiled  so  early  in  life  that  little  was  needed  to 
complete  the  wreck.  I  felt  a  deeper  satisfaction  when, 
as  I  was  meekly  beseeching  our  Bridget's  instruction  hi 
some  particular  branch  of  the  culinary  art,  that  majestic 
female  observed,  as  she  folded  her  arms  and  looked  down 
on  me  complacently : 

"  There's  one  thing  I  like  better  about  you,  than  I  used 
to,  miss  —  you  do  have  to  wade  through  a  great  deal  o1 
flour  to  larn  a  little  plain  cookin',  but  Job  himself, 
could  n't  a  be'n  no  patienter."  And  it  was  indeed  true 
that  my  "  graham  gems  "  never  quite  reached  perfection, 
though  they  bore  with  them  marks  of  earnest  and  faithful 
endeavor. 

I  found  new  sources  of  interest  everywhere,  and  in  ways 
which  I  had  formerly  regarded  with  aversion  and  disdain. 

At  the  "  Newton  Ladies'  Charitable  Sewing  Society  "  I 
was  elevated  from  among  the  common  stitchers  and 
sewers,  for  faithfulness  in  service, —  I  believe,  though 
malicious  fingers  would  point  to  the  distortion  of  the  legs 
of  little  heathens'  trousers, —  to  a  place  on  the  "cutting 
circle."  From  the  cutting*  circle,  it  is  needless  to  say, 
I  was  speedily  exalted  to  a  presidential  chair  of  easeful 
observation  and  general  vague  superintendency. 


820  CAPE    COD    FOLKS. 

Later,  there  was  a  revival  of  the  "Literary  Club." 
There  John  Cable  and  I  shone  once  more  amid  a  group 
of  familiar  and  undimmed  luminaries.  John  Cable  never 
took  up  the  exact  thread  of  the  discourse  broken  off 
so  abruptly  on  the  day  of  my  return  in  the  cars,  but  it  was 
when  coming  home  from  the  club  one  evening  that 
he  expressed  himself  to  the  effect  that  I  had  always 
been  a  great  burden  on  his  mind,  even  since  the  first  day 
he  led  me  to  school,  and,  to  be  sure,  I  had  shown  signs  of 
improvement  lately,  but  there  was  always  a  pardonable 
doubt  as  to  what  I  might  do  next,  and  it  was  wearing  on 
him,  and  would  I  set  his  mind  at  rest  by  allowing  him,  in 
some  sense,  to  take  the  direction  of  my  life  into  his 
own  hands? 

John,  though  of  adverse  views,  had  been  heatedly  dis 
cussing  the  merits  of  the  Capital  Punishment  question  at 
the  club,  so  I  was  not  surprised  at  the  unusual  grace  and 
flow  of  his  address. 

Years  have  passed  since  that  evening.  I  have  been 
very  happy  as  John's  wife.  If  I  wander  in  my  story,  be  it 
said  that  little  John  is  running  a  model  express  train 
on  the  floor  over  my  head.  Little  John,  when  not  dream 
ing,  exercises  a  vast  amount  of  destructive  physical  force. 


A  little  more  than  a  year  after  I  left  Wallencamp,  1 
heard  of  Grandma  and  Grandpa  Spicer's  death.  ''  Very 
quiet  and  peaceful,"  they  said  concerning  Grandma,  but 
I  had  known  what  sort  of  a  death-bed  hers  would  be. 
Scarcely  a  week  after  she  had  passed  away,  Grandpa 
Spicer  followed  her.  I  had  it  from  good  authority  that 
he  kept  about  the  house  till  the  last.  There  was  a  "  rainy 


CAPE    COD    FOLKS.  327 

spell,"  and  he  stood  often  gazing  out  of  the  window 
"with  a  lost  look  on  his  face,"  and  once  he  said  with  a 
wistful,  broken  utterance  and  a  pathetic  longing  in  his 
eyes  that  did  away  forever  with  any  opprobrium  there 
might  have  been  in  connection  with  the  term,  that  "it 
was  gittin'  to  be  very  lonely  about  the  house  without  ma 
pesterin'  on  him." 

Since  then,  I  have  not  heard  from  Wallencamp.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  I  ever  get  another  letter  from  that 
source.  Though  singularly  gifted  in  the  epistolary  art,  it 
is  but  a  dull  and  faint  means  of  expression  to  the  souls  of 
the  Wallencampers  — and  they  will  not  forget.  From  the 
storms  that  shake  their  earthly  habitations,  they  pass  to 
their  sweet,  wild  rest  beside  the  sea;  and£>y  and  by,  when 
I  meet  them,  I  shall  hear  them  sing. 


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